


Just a step to the left

by DarkShadeless



Series: SWTOR - collection [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Actually starting to confuse myself whether this is or isn't crack, But they'll just have to deal, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Jedi-Sith Conflict and Resolution Management, No one likes this, Sith Culture, That kinda goes hand in hand, WTF Brain, What-If, culture clash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-02-24 15:19:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 24,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13216530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadeless/pseuds/DarkShadeless
Summary: Darth Malgus manages to trip onto Satele Shan’s lightsaber in the Battle of Alderaan.That has more far reaching consequences than anyone accounted for.





	1. Just a step to the left I

**Author's Note:**

> Original Timeline:  
> Battle of Alderaan: 14 Years before the Treaty of Coruscant  
> 11 Years later: End of the Cold war (Baras etc)
> 
> Okay, some hand-waving of canon facts and time lines will take place here.  
> I researched them but it turns out not even the wiki can give me an approximation for things like ‘Balmorra fell back to the Republic’ more accurately than ‘somewhere in these 11 years’. Some Sith Lords fall out of a black hole to be important at the Sacking of Coruscant, without even a date of birth, much less a military record. Which yeah.  
> I’ve decided to take the entire thing under advisement and kick the rest into shape :P

 

 

In the larger scope of things the Battle of Alderaan was little but another skirmish. An important one, certainly, but they were at war. A failed incursion was of little note past a footnote in strategical planning.

They had failed to take the ‘soul’ of the Republic. The death of a Sith Lord in the assault was nothing compared to that. A blip on the radar.

With one flap of a butterfly’s wings the galaxy shifted a step to the left.

A miniscule weakness in otherwise well maintained body armour. A hairline crack caused by a grenade going off in close proximity. Just one sharp edged stone among many caught in the wave of Force power Shan brought to bear.

Darth Malgus was no more.

The consequences of that were more far reaching than anyone accounted for.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

The city before them was in ruins. Kerum squashed the ire that wanted to rise at the sight of the destruction the Sith had wrought. _There is no emotion, there is peace_.

Anger would serve no one but the enemy.

“Come on Vorin, let’s check that townhouse over there. I think I feel someone but they’re fading.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“The offense on Ord Radama left much to be desired.” Darth Vengean looked ready to boil over at that understatement alone. “Clearly Lord Adraas was unfit. Your standards grow lax.”

Darth Marr watched Jadus lay into their fellow Councilor with, for him, unusual directness. That the head of the Sphere of Imperial Intelligence found it appropriate to so openly criticise the actions of Military Offense spoke volumes about how far Vengean had fallen in their collective esteem.

Perhaps it was time to prepare for his inevitable replacement.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

The message came as a surprise. It shouldn’t have. The Empire was scrambling for decisive leaders, last she heard. It was a failure and a stain upon their honor that it had ever come so far.

Lord Andra mustered the operative on the other end of the holo connection with burning disdain. “I am,” her voice was fit do freeze rhydonium, “occupied with obligations towards my family.” _As the Council well knows,_ she didn’t add.

Over thirty years she had served, countless battles won, lost and driven to standstill. When the venerable elders of the Thume, her family line, had found it time to find succession while they were still fit to train such, she had accepted that duty as her due.

Only the best could be allowed to see to the next generation. It was a privilege and a responsibility that could not be forsworn.

It had been _time_ , kriff it all. Even with the Dark Side at ones disposal one could not hold on to the prime of battle honed perfection forever. She had challenged the younger Lords while she could and stepped aside when she found it appropriate.

Andra knew well how some of her compatriots thought that weakness. Fear, of finding her match in the one who would kill her and take her place.

 _Fear, pah._ It would have been glorious to seek her death in battle. Long had she done so, chasing one challenge after the next. But she had survived. Survived long enough, proven herself worthy enough, to be chosen for a duty that was more important than her own satisfaction.

Now her experience and wisdom could serve, while she yet lived.

She would not find her ultimate opponent, could not drive herself further until she hit the dizzying height of her own limits. The knowledge was as bitter as it was sweet to oversee their youngest Neophytes take their first steps on the Dark Path. To guide them, as they tripped and fell, the way her own teachers had, so long ago.

And this imbecile dared tempt her away from her vigil?

To his credit he did not shrink overmuch under her glare. “With respect, Lord Andra, the Empire needs you.”

The Empire needed a kick in the pants if they could not be arsed to produce Sith strong enough to hold their damned frontlines. Their failure would not sway her.

After a moment’s hesitation, when she said nothing more, he swallowed. “My Lord, the Republic has taken Ziost. Their forces are moving on Ashas Ree as we speak.”

“The Republic has **_what_**?”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Ven Zallow watched the simulation run its course. After a short pause it started to loop again. His soldiers died by the score, immortalized on holo. The attacker was employing the most vicious perversion of Soresu he had ever been forced to witness. “That’s impossible. She’s dead. All our sources claimed she was dead.” After all, who had ever heard of a Sith Lord going into _retirement_? It just didn’t _happen_.

His Padawan bit her lip, transfixed by the carnage playing out in front of them. “I hate to say it, Master, but she looks really, really alive. And pissed.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

The holo connection closed, leaving the Council chamber bathed in its usual half-darkness. Foreboding hung in the air, slinking through the room like a lazy Nexu.

“Very well. It seems the Jedi can still surprise me, after all these years.” Darth Angral sounded wickedly amused. This was going to be the culmination of everything he had worked for, before and after killing his former superior.

The call had been the entire point of today’s session. His fellow Councilors were finding their way towards the exit, leaving him with his most valuable war leader.

 _A peace conference._ He wanted to scoff. As if they would ever actually accept such ridiculousness. At least on anyone’s terms but theirs.

Apparently he wasn’t the only one who thought along those lines. Lord Andra’s voice was puzzled, if one knew her enough to hear it underneath her perpetual distemper. “I did not think our campaign was going so badly as to make this necessary.”

“It isn’t.”

Confusion colored her face. Angral’s lips quirked into a condescending grin at eliciting the reaction. “You can’t possibly believe that was anything but a farce.”

He had the curious pleasure of watching Lord Andra’s scowl melt into open surprise, like a blooming flower. Then all animation fled from her features. “You swore you would honor the proceedings. That the Council would engage in good faith.” They had worked together for a long time, before and after her ‘retirement’. This was the calmest he had ever heard her speak. Strange.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Satele stared at the document in front of her as if that would force it to make sense. “So, Darth Angral is not coming in person?” After swearing himself and the entirety of the Sith to the upholding of due process. That should have boded ill. Yet for some reason the Force, that had been clouded and conflicted on the matter of the impending negotiation on Alderaan, had cleared only hours after the Dark Council had contacted them on the matter. There were still eddies she couldn’t make sense of but it felt _calm_.

Reading the attendance list that had arrived today made it elicit clear notes of harmony.

It was safe to say she was completely confused and didn’t claim to understand its ways in the slightest.

The Imperial Officer that had been dispatched to deliver the information, by hand as a sign of trust, was standing at rigid and uncomfortable attention. “I have been given to understand there has been a redistribution of personnel.”

_What in the name of the Light is that supposed to mean?_

She could feel his discomfort despite the fact that he managed to keep a Sabacc face some of her Jedi Masters would have been envious of. “Apparently Lord Andra took umbrage with a tactical decision, my Lady.”

She wasn’t anyone’s Lady. She was the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order. “And?”

“And-“ He did not sweat under her regard but he did clear his throat before continuing. “Decided to make her displeasure known. With force, my Lady.”

_Oh._


	2. Just a step to the left II

 

 

The control panel of the newly named Darth Andra’s holo comm flashed with the rhythmic pulse of an incoming signal. It had done so for a while. About as long as she had been staring at it in what felt uncomfortably close to trepidation.

_This is cowardice. Pick it up._

She had known this call was coming but she would stand by her actions. There was nothing she could, or would, change. Before she could think better of it she opened the line. A lean figure materialized over the comm unit, shrouded in a voluminous robe.

It mustered her in icy silence.

“Leli. How nice to see you.”

Even across three star systems and a reedy holo connection Andra could feel her Sister’s outrage spike. /Don’t you dare _Leli_ me. Is it true?/

“Is what true?” Thirty-seven years in service. Force, where was her spine when she needed it. Buried under chagrin, probably.

/ _Don’t play games with me_. Did you challenge a Darth? Did you ascend to the Dark Council?/

It should have been the peak of aspiration. It should have filled her with nothing but pride. _But_. In the privacy of her quarters Darth Andra bowed her head in acknowledgement of her Sister’s fury and bitter disappointment. “Yes. I’m not coming back.” Not to stay. _I’m sorry, Leli’Ana. You’ll have to find another to guide our children by your side._

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“You can’t be serious!”

For once Darth Marr found himself somewhat in agreement with Ravage. They had planned to go through with the negotiations, of course, but this? No trump card, no leverage past the power they had already amassed?

Their fleet was all but ready to engage Coruscant!

And yet.

“You _swore_. The entirety of this august body claimed upon their honor to see the negotiations through _to terms stated_.” Their freshly inaugurated Head of Military Offense was implacable. The problem was… “Are you trying to tell me, Lord Ravage, that you would throw away one of the basest principles of our Order and _spit on it_?”

She wasn’t _wrong_.

Many Sith these days did not give half a kriff but they weren’t just anyone. They were the pillars of their society. If they did not adhere to their own codes, where did that lead?

It was a shame that the undirected treachery in their own ranks had grown as much as it already had. Power was paramount but there were _rules_ , codices that should never be set aside. It was a mark of a true Sith to be able to trick one’s enemies without impinging one’s honor.

The entire reason why their Order as a whole was decried by the Jedi for twisting truth to their purpose and making it dance to their tune. Careful diction could do much and it was entirely necessary. As a warrior, your word was your bond. If such was no longer true, how long until their Empire cracked in its very foundations?

But Angral hadn’t been careful. In his eagerness to quash the Jedi he had trapped them all in the only web that had any hope of actually holding them. As it should. Nothing should keep a Sith but a choice they made. A promise.

Fleetingly, Marr considered that Vengean wouldn’t have made that mistake. He had been too wily by far.

 _If he had, would anyone have remarked upon it?_ An uncomfortable thought. They had, after all, almost overlooked their error as it was.

There had been a time when Darth Marr had admired those that held themselves to the strictest of standards, in all things. The warriors that refused to violate word given, even in spirit, if the other party did not shatter the agreement first and release them from the chains of their own will and making.

But he had grown older, more jaded, had weighed reality against ideal and found it sadly unattainable. Perfect honor could not be held by any living person. Perhaps, he had sometimes thought, it was found only in death.

 _Did that mean one should stop striving for that lofty goal? When had he done so?_ No one had ever claimed the way of the Sith to be _easy_. To be one of _convenience_.

Some developments in their ranks might require more attention than he had thought. After all he was not only called to defend the Empire from threats originating _outside_ its borders. A period of lesser external focus might be beneficial.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

It was one of the longest and most gruelling Council sessions in living memory of anyone in attendance. Seeing as Darth Vowrawn was going on sixty-four and had ascended to the seat in his youth that was saying something.

The Sith in question wondered if he found the entire matter not a bit too entertaining. Always a treat to watch his more volatile colleagues rail against someone who might well have been wrought from cortosis for all they gave on the issue provoking such ire.

All the more when it wasn’t Marr, for once. Variety was the spice of life, indeed.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

In the end it showed who, of the interested parties, had set their body and mind to the mastery of Soresu, of all lightsaber forms. Stubborn immovability paid off. Darth Aruk, Head of the Sphere of Sith Philosophy, had rallied rather quickly once he saw her point and the fact that he had an actual ally on such an obscure and unloved topic.

Interestingly enough he hadn’t been the only one. Perhaps the old laws weren't as dead and dying as she had feared.

 _It did help_ , Andra thought with a scowl, _that she had spent almost a decade debating the finer points of things such as this with pre-adolescents before she had been recalled._ The parallels were remarkable. Even if even her five-year olds had known, or soon learned, better than to throw her such a tantrum. Unbelievable.

Yes, they had screwed up. Undoubtedly. Now it was time to face the consequences.

She glowered at the Head of Military Tactics. Darth Decimus looked to be torn between despair and incandescent rage. “Everything is in place! You can’t just call it off!” _All the work! All the planning! It had been the perfect coup!_ The howling of his Force presence fell on deaf ears. No, worse. Ears that heard him loud and clear and refused all compromise.

The woman was as glorious as she was vexing.

When he had run out of steam to muster more protest than silent, impotent anger Andra deigned to unbend just as far as Sith ideal would allow. “We needn’t undo all the hard won progress. We’ll leave the fleet on standby. If the Jedi are foolish enough to renege on our agreement we will be prepared, as well we should be, to defend our citizens against such folly.” _And then we could still proceed_ , hovered unspoken behind her words. _We could fall upon the Heart of the Republic and in the eyes of the Galaxy it would be **their** fault._

The sweetness of the accommodation, presented as a magnanimous concession edged in razor-sharp calculation, sank through the battered defences of her adversaries like lethal toxin.

Her face was a mask of poise but Vengean could see the triumph burning in her eyes. With the sudden clarity of a Shah-tezh player realizing the full scope of their opponents strategy at the moment of their defeat, he knew without a doubt that Andra had always planned to give this much.

Instead of offering it as a placation to soften them up she had gone for total victory and used even that bit of common ground to consolidate her win.

It had been some time since he had been beaten at this game. _Well played._

Perhaps they would work well together, after all.

 


	3. Just a step to the left III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile at the Temple on Coruscant…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter was a little brain breaking x_X switching from Sith to Jedi perspective is kinda painful.

 

 

Satele tried and failed to mitigate her blooming headache with the Force. “I know that we all have our doubts-“

“Because the very thought is preposterous!” Master Kaedan’s voice rose into an indignant shout. It marked the length of their session and the volatility of the topic they were discussing that no one attempted to counsel him on the propriety of such.

He looked fit to wring the neck of anyone who tried. That might also have been a factor.

She wondered, briefly, whether Grandmaster Zym would have handled this better. What he would have thought of the decision placed before them. She might have discovered Tython through the will of the Force but how did that prepare her for this?

Idle thoughts. Grandmaster Zym had fallen to an ambush of the Sith no three months ago. She had been chosen to take his place. It was on her now.

Satele reached for the Force to balance herself against the onslaught of Kaedan’s outrage and did not sigh. The Council chamber was anything but tranquil today and she wanted for nothing more than to retreat to the gardens to meditate on her own misgivings and concerns regarding the choice they had to make.

But that was not something she could do.

 _Be calm. You are the Grandmaster of the Order. If you cannot find serenity within yourself, how will your comrades?_ It helped that the Force was more untroubled than she had felt it in a long time. There were still the ever present shadows of war, muddying its bottomless well. Yet for the first time in years, perhaps her whole life, they were shot through with the soothing cool of change that might come.

If they grasped their chance and didn’t waver.

The thought steeled her conviction and set her shoulders, curving with the beginnings of exhaustion and the weight of responsibility, straight.

“Master Kaedan. We are all well aware of your opinion. I ask you now, as the Grandmaster of this Order, to hold your _peace_. We might have our doubts but the Force is with us.” Her voice filled the chamber, even and sure. “We are losing the war.”

The simple truth, stated so boldly and without ire, seemed to shock her fellow Masters to the core. They had danced around it for some time now. None could deny it, not even Kaedan. Perhaps him least of all, with his active role on the frontlines.

“The beings under our protection have suffered this conflict long enough. Now, in this time of need, we have been offered the very thing a Jedi must _always_ chose above all else. We have been given an opportunity to see peace realized.”

_Why? They **were** losing. It was unmistakeable. It was costing the Empire as dearly as it was them but why would the Sith care about the cost of their destruction? They were destruction. They **thrived** on it. Where was the catch?_

Satele shoved the ruminations aside. “If there is even an ounce of truthfulness in that offer, we must seize it.” She paused. When she continued her words were filled with steely determination. “I, for one, intend to take them for all they are worth.”

It might not be much but ‘not much’ wasn’t ‘nothing’.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

The entire process was surreal. Fourteen years ago they had been sifting through rubble, on this very planet, after the Sith got done bombing whatever they could get their hands on to pieces. Now they were preparing that same place to host a peace conference with the people responsible for the destruction.

Kerum stared at the details on his PAD all but unseeing. Seating arrangements. _Decoration_. Apparently Alderaan had decided to go all out. If they were going to host this disaster, they were going to do it in style.

He could respect their bloody-minded determination. It was much the same thing that had seen the population through the aftermath of the invasion.

A recent addendum caught his eye. A Lord Lachris had proposed a rewording of some stipulations concerning security.

Whatever had offended her about ‘The participants are to attend unarmed.’ the message she had sent in complaint over it was a monster.

_As it is understood that the mastery of a true warrior would not suffer the implication they are anything less than a weapon themselves…_

He blinked. The text didn’t change. _Dear bloody fuck. Sith. What the hells are they on?_

 

\----------------------------------------

 

It was nothing but trickles, at first. Fine threads, each but a gossamer in the grand picture of things. But tapestries depicting the history of an entire people had started on less and it was Gnost-Dural’s duty and pleasure to guard the knowledge of their Order. He had had decades to dedicate himself to sifting through all their Jedi learned on their forays into the galaxy and brought home to be remembered.

So when his former student sent his old Master an update on his mission to the exciting stretches of all things politic that barely masked the whining undertone, for the fourth time in the span of a standard month, he did not do what most Masters would have done. What he had done the last three times.

Namely give Vorin a verbal cuff to the back of the head, cushioned by just enough sympathy to soothe his adventurous spirt. Poor boy, he had never done well with fripperies and flamboyant manners.

Master Gnost-Dural should have censured him, told him to meditate on the virtues of patience and called it a day.

But no. The keeper of the Jedi Archives read his student’s words with fond exasperation and his mind caught on something like silk on unvarnished and poorly smoothed wood.

 

_… sent back the procedural formalities for the sixth revision! What does it even matter if it says ‘adjourned’ instead of ‘tabled’?_

_I swear, it’s like they’re trying to bury us in rebuffs. Why do they even give a kriff, I thought Sith dealt in absolutes not passive-aggressive legalese…_

 

It was much the same complaint that had shone through in most of Vorin’s correspondence since he had been stationed on Alderaan to oversee preparations. His actions in the wake of the battle fourteen years ago gave him clout enough to soothe ruffled feathers with the locals. It was more than necessary in this tense situation.

Gnost-Dural frowned but did not attempt to force his mind to make sense of the feeling of something out of place. Such never lead anywhere.

Half-lost in thought he keyed up the revisions that gave his former padawan so much grief. It could not hurt to have a look at what the Sith ‘were up to’ as Vorin was wont to put it.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Despite all of student’s complaints the Kel’Dor Master was surprised by the sheer volume of messages exchanged.

Hours went by as he sifted through them. The deeper he dove, the more questions he had that he couldn’t answer.

The efforts of the Sith involved were entirely pedantic. At some turns they were disagreeing _with each other_ , throwing back and forth pointed references to agreements already made until somebody gave up with ill grace.

None of it made sense. Vorin was right, why would they care? Why would they go to so much effort? Was it just their combative nature at work?

The Jedi Master expanded his search, reviewing extant patterns to find an answer. Surely, past experience must give meaning to present actions. Yet despite the logic behind the attempt the picture didn’t come together. Worse, the more he dredged the Archives the more inconsistencies cropped up.

In the late hours of Coruscant’s night cycle, over stone cold tea and stale Droki paste, he found himself forced to do something he had never considered before. It shouldn’t have been necessary. Their Order had battled the Sith for centuries beyond retained memory. They themselves had fought the current war for almost thirty years without pause or reprieve.

_Free yourself of that. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

It was harder than it should have been to lay aside all preconceptions, all _attachment_ to those notions and oh, he should have known better than to be so wrought in that. He had thought he did.

Only when he felt one with the Force, as much of a blank slate as he could will his mind to be, he opened his eyes once more to look upon the puzzle before him.

The answer was easy.

_There is something we are missing. Our understanding of their motivations is compromised._

At the edge of that realisation hovered a new question.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“Satele, do we know our enemy?”

Shan paused in serving them their tea. Her brow furrowed in faint confusion. “The Sith?”

“Yes.” Her fellow councillor was staring at the top of her table as if it held the answers to all questions in the known galaxy. His robes were dishevelled. He didn’t look as if he had slept. Whatever could be the matter? Gnost-Dural did not usually come to her this early in the morning to seek debate, much less in this kind of state.

“Well, of course.”

The Kel’Dor met her gaze.

Then he said one of the most terrifying things the keeper of the collective knowledge their Order had amassed and treasured for centuries could have said to its Grandmaster.

“I’m not sure that is true.”

 


	4. Interlude I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the higher ups are free to plot or worry from a distance, for now, other people actually had to deal with the disaster in person.
> 
> Sometimes Vorin really wonders what he has done in his last life to deserve this one.

 

 

Later, this period in history would be painted as fraught with tension and hope. It would be written about in texts as dry as the Tatooine deserts. Historians would discuss the happenings to death.

Who had made the first step? Whose ingenuity was to be most vaunted? It had to have been an era of forward-thinking beings, for how they set all past grievances aside to brave a new course.

 

The reality was, as so often, much different when one lived and breathed it.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

‘The participants are to attend unarmed.’

Reading the line alone made something inside Lord Lachris chest burst into searing flames. The audacity. The _insult_. Not a page down from the proposed details of her Master’s arrival!

This **_would not be born_**.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“Master, could you repeat that?” Vorin felt paralyzed with disbelief. He could not have heard that right.

Despite the difficulties of cross-species translation of facial expressions, hampered by the typical mask of the Kel’Dor, Gnost-Dural made a good impression of contrition to his human eyes. “The Council has discussed the matter you brought to my attention. In light of this it has been requested that you review everything.”

“Everything.” The word came out faint.

“With particular attention to detail.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Lachris had to skim the message twice before the subject matter made it past her sheer incredulous incomprehension.

Then she had to go _break_ something.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“Vorin are you- is that Corellian brandy?”

The Jedi knight knocked back his drink and revelled in the burn. “No?”

Kerum eyed him with unveiled scepticism.

Sensing the impending lecture on responsibility and the Jedi Code, Vorin rallied enough to glare at him. “Shut it. I just had to field telling a livid Sith months of work are for nothing because my superiors got off their arses yesterday to look at my reports and didn’t okay them.”

The Zabrak fought a wince. Yeah. That hadn’t been a good way to start their week. It had taken them three days to hammer that into a message- “Wait, _tell?_ ”

“Lachris called.” Vorin stared blankly at the wall for a few moments. “I thought she was going to cut off my balls and feed them to me. With a cake fork. Next time you’re taking that one. The other end of the galaxy is _not_ far enough.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

That the Dark Council was displeased with the turn of events went without saying.

“They are **_mocking_** us!”

 _And you are looking for an excuse, Ravage._ Darth Andra did not give in to the urge to crush the armrest of her chair. Such a display of temper was beneath her. “Nevertheless, they haven’t broken the accord. Yet.” Even if their actions were fit to rile the most even of tempers.

How typical. Always pushing the limit of courtesy and beyond.

“How about we give them some _aid_. As it seems they are having such _difficulty_.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“What do you mean _she’s coming here_?”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_The time preceding the Treaty of Alderaan stands out as a period of never before seen efforts in cooperation._

_Not only was the way paved for the treaty itself, Jedi and Sith came together in an unprecedented fashion to overcome their differences and foster a mutual understanding that would be the foundation the future was built upon._

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“No. Just no. I’m not doing it. Tell them I’ve defected. Tell them I’m _dead_!”

Kerum took a deep breath and pressed his fingers against the worst of the tension aches around his temple-adjacent horns. “Vorin, we don’t have a choice. They’re already in orbit!”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

The beautiful, blue-green orb that was Alderaan was visible through the view screen and growing ever closer.

Lachris knew the peaceful façade to be a treacherous lie. What awaited them planet-side was nothing less than a war of attrition, if previous months were any indication. The negation of all their hard won progress was still burning in her heart with the fury of a sun.

The Jedi would not get away with this. She _would_ pin them down and tear her due from their _hide_.

Verbally. Because the accord stated there would be no physical engagement. She could do that. She would. Truly, it was vexing how much the preliminary negotiations were testing her control. Her Master had been full of criticism.

She would _not_ disappoint him in this. 

Especially with Darth Andra’s apprentice around to show her up if she didn’t stay on top of her game. Lachris mustered her fellow Sith out of the corner of her eye.

They had both worked toward the realisation of the negotiations but never before so closely. Still, it was enough to get an impression of his character. Cytharat was young, perhaps too young for a mission of this scope and importance, but he was nothing if not dutiful. A touch too honest, she found. Too honourable.

_Could one be too honourable, though?_

A question she should debate with him once she had the leisure to do so. His arguments would be enlightening, no doubt.

For now she had Jedi to torment.

They would not dare cross her again when she was done with them, Lachris would make sure of it.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

The latest communication from Empire space was almost radiating ire. Considering the circumstances Satele couldn’t even blame them.

Apart from that… _They sent representatives of the Spheres of Defence and Offense? Not Expansion and Diplomacy? This doesn’t bode well._

She would have to contact their own people involved and caution them.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“Did we just…” Kerum trailed off, unsure how to end the question.

His friend had less difficulties. He might have grown increasingly jumpy since the Sith had arrived but no one could say Vorin wasn’t quicker on the repartee than ever. “Have the Grandmaster call us to tell us to hold on to our asses? Yeah, yeah we did.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_Sadly, direct accounts of those early days are few and far between. Interested parties are convinced the Jedi Archive might be in possession of journal notes from the initial negotiators involved. If they are, these priceless records are not open to the public._

_A shame. What insight could be gained by studying the early writings of Master Vorin himself must be unparalleled._

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“We’re not painting half of the atrium in red! I don’t give a fig about colour discrimination!”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_The Sith have retained Darth Lachris’ and Darth Cytharat’s correspondence of that time and do allow access. As most of the interactions took place in person the collection is not as extensive as one might hope. Yet it does contain gems that give hints about the political climate of the era._

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Lachris leaned forward over the table towards the comm unit, her eyes blazing with unholy light. “You will finish the details of the proposal, Serevin, or I will _tear out your heart and **eat** **it**.”_

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Kerum scrolled through his inbox with mounting disbelief. “Hey, have you checked your messages yet? ‘cause I think that nerf-herder, whatshisface, actually wrote back.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“Say you have the chance to destroy an enemy, utterly, that threatens your people and home. If you do not you risk their devastation. However this is merely a possible danger and not guaranteed.

If you do act you must injure an oath given to an unrelated third party that has held truce with you in good faith. Would you take this chance or would you not?”

Cytharat frowned. A tricky situation.

One couldn’t claim Lord Lachris wasn’t as well versed in mental sparring as she was with a lightsaber. Using the moments of idleness that inevitably cropped up on a diplomatic assignment to hone his mind on hers was as challenging as it was rewarding.

There was no way to satisfy both demands. That wasn’t the point of the thought exercise. It forced a choice that would allow him and, if he couldn’t deflect, her, greater understanding of his nature.

He wondered how much measure she had already taken of that. Cytharat knew he was somewhat clumsy at this game. He didn’t have Lachris grace with words, wielded like knives.

But her curiosity, her questions, did reveal her own nature in turn. What he had learned so far was most interesting. There might be grounds for a future alliance here. It bore consideration.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

The first time Vorin actually won an argument instead of feeling like he was perpetually on strategic retreat, picking and choosing what he would sacrifice to get what they really needed, was an accident.

No, that was an understatement. It was born from a slip he should never have made. His Master would have been so disappointed.

They had been at it for hours. Calm debate had long given to heated rejoinders on Lachris’ side and tense, clipped retorts on his. He was right! She had to see that!

And she _still wasn’t moving_ , it was ridiculous! It was like banging your head against a wall!

Vorin could see her pick up steam for the next round and his temper snapped almost audibly.

“No, you know what! You’re bloody wrong, I’m _not_ listening to this!” Her delicately painted face twisted into a snarl, promising death and dismemberment, but he was beyond caring. ”You wanna go?! Let’s take this out back and I’ll _beat you into the ground_!”

Silence fell, only broken by their harsh breathing. You could have heard a pin drop.

Kerum’s Force presence was a starburst of shock at his back. On the other side of the table Lord Cytharat’s rigid posture had loosened in surprise.

Then the impossible happened.

Lord Lachris, who at times seemed to be a firestorm caught and squeezed into human shape more than a person, gritted her teeth and hissed like a thwarted Hssiss. “ ** _Fine_**.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“That damned Jedi!” She was going to make him suffer for this. How dare he catch her out!

 

\----------------------------------------

 

The signed addendum on his PAD was exactly what he had wanted to settle for. No rewording, no finagling, no last minute additions. Vorin wondered which parallel universe he had wandered into and when.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

The whole matter set a worrying precedent for further interactions. “Vorin, are you sure- You should slow down. This is a really bad idea, what if they get offended?”

“Kriff that! I will get that damned universally appropriate address worked in if it _kills_ me! She is _not_ winning this!”

“Since when do you even give half a krup about forms of address!”

“That’s not the _point_ , Kerum!”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

It was open, bloody war. Without the blood, because they still weren’t allowed to actually engage. Cytharat watched the Jedi head negotiator say something under his breath with a smile like a nexu. His fellow Sith blanched in outrage.

Apparently they had found their spine. He had to concede that in the face of Lord Lachris ready to flay the skin from your body inch by inch that was not unimpressive. Maybe there was more than one worthy adversary on this planet after all.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Somehow, after _another_ two months, they had managed to work a miracle. Vorin held the PAD containing the completed codes of conduct and procedure with something uncomfortably close to reverence. It had been ratified by both Councils just this morning.

Emotions warred in his chest. Relief that that battle was finally over. Triumph, as well as disappointment for ground lost.

 

_It was perfect. It was clad in cortosis. It was painfully politically correct._

 

… maybe Kerum was right and he should meditate.

Now that this was done with and the Council could move ahead with the actual peace conference-

The stirrings of serenity in his heart collapsed into a black hole of dread and took all other feelings with them.

_The conference. Snarking hells._

 

\----------------------------------------

 

A communication between then-Knight Vorin and his Master, Gnost-Dural:

 

/ _Hey Master! Uhm. Word of advice for those negotiations…/_

\----------------------------------------

 

_Taking into account the lack of detailed records, the only thing that can be said with certainty is that the events forgoing and following the proposal of the Treaty of Alderaan have changed the course of history like few others._

 


	5. Holding your breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change is a turbulent thing. Satele feels the crossroads looming ahead and tries to find guidance in the Force.
> 
> At the other end of the galaxy Darth Andra just wishes her minions were less of a hassle.

 

 

_The Force guides us. Do not mistake that to mean it is helpful._

_\-    Elder Kobt’Yona al Thum, Tales of the Age of Silence_

 

 

The sun was setting over the upper levels of Coruscant, bringing another day to its end. Satele watched the spectacle from the windows of her quarters. It still held the same dreamlike quality as it had the day before. It did not feel real.

Three weeks, since their preliminary negotiators had left for Alderaan. Three weeks they held truce with the Empire. With the Sith.

Satele did not delude herself into thinking that that wouldn’t end the moment someone bent the uneasy peace out of shape but for now it had held. A year ago she would not have thought such a thing possible, no matter how fleeting.

Every day won was a day the people of the Republic did not have to suffer war. A day they could use to rebuild, to heal the wounds the conflict had torn.

Every day was a treasure.

The Force was tranquil in a way she had never known before. The whirls and eddies caused by pain and loss, by the silent scream of millions of beings suffering, were growing less turbulent.  

For now.

When she closed her eyes and opened herself to the gentle urging grazing the edge of her perception she could feel it. The rising tide. A wave cresting out of sight, the pull of it barely touching the present. Satele struggled to let go of the influx of despair that threatened to drag her under. _Are we to always be at war? Is Kaedan right? Will there be no peace until the Empire is destroyed?_

The Force gave her no answers.

 _Why?_ Why give her the warning and nothing more? Unbidden, the memory of her second teacher, Master Dar’Nala, came to her.

 

_Perhaps, my impatient Padawan, you are asking the wrong questions._

_But-!_

_No buts, Satele. Do you expect arguing with the Force will get you anywhere?_

_… no._

_Then why do you do it?_

The old lesson, the tranquillity she had found once she followed her Master’s advice and gave herself to the Force instead of trying to control what it told her, settled into her heart. With the determined calm of a skydiver preparing for the jump she let her desperate need for answers go. Her dread of the warning that had been dodging her steps since the conference had ended.

 

_Do not center on your fears, Satele. Live in the moment. Be._

_Let it take you were it will._

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Darth Andra gritted her teeth and, with heroic effort, resisted the desire to Force-choke her underling. “For the last time, Baras, I will _not_ grant you the resources for that kind of campaign. Now take your _leave_ before I lose the last bit of my patience!”

For a moment she almost thought he would refuse, that he would finally challenge her.

Then he bowed just enough to not appear rebellious and did as he was told.

Andra waited until she was sure he had left her offices before she allowed herself to fall back into her chair with a put upon huff. What a hassle.

It was never pleasant to inherit someone else’s apprentices but Baras took the cake. Not only was he dissatisfied with her stance on active military intervention, he was petitioning her at every turn for what translated to more leeway and power. She knew well what he wanted to put both of those to, which was the entire reason why she had cut him off in the first place.

Not her death. That _too_ , of course, but it wasn’t what had her so offended with his very existence.

He wanted to break the treaty before it had even been written.

Or rather _see it broken_ , by means of some convoluted plan he and Vengean had hatched ages ago. Some drivel that would see the Republic short their greatest commanders, so that the Empire may reignite the conflict with a foot up.

Andra took a deep breath, revelling in the searing burn of her rage, before she let it sink to a simmer on the exhale.

_That little gnat._

It wasn’t the plan. The plan was fine, even if it was more suited to Darth Jadus domain. She could appreciate a decent ruse.

It wasn’t even his desire to return to open war as soon as possible, no matter the consequences. No Sith worth their salt didn’t dream of conquest and the crushing defeat of their enemies.

It was… it was…

Her hand clenched so hard her tendons ached. Andra barely felt it over the bottomless depth of her disgust.

_He didn’t even know the terms yet. He had no intention of using his skill to skirt them, as he should._

It couldn’t be more obvious that Baras didn’t give a damn about the basest principles of the Sith. Not if they _limited_ him. He was one of those that adhered the bare lines of their Code and took them to mean he should have to heed nothing and no one if he found it inconvenient.

He didn’t wish to raise up their Order, or the Empire, only himself.

If he had at least _deserved_ what he was reaching for. If he had honed himself in preparation of taking it. If he had taken action, like the warrior he claimed to be, and seen his ambition or ruin come to pass.

But no.

Baras was content to sit in his web like a spider, growing fatter every day. Literally.

It was a disgrace.

And it got worse. Despite his age and his mastery of deceit he didn’t have a single surviving apprentice to his name. The Sith he took under his wing often did not even make it to Lordship.

There was harshness as a teaching Master and then there was sabotage. The first was to be lauded, the second unforgivable. Your apprentices were the whetstones of your own talent. The future of the Sith Order. They were a challenge and a gift. What greater accomplishment could be found than raising someone to surpass you? Someone who could reach heights you couldn’t even imagine?

A Sith apprentice was past the age that their Master should run after them to give them the lessons they needed but that not one would have risen to that challenge under Baras care?

The deeper Andra had dug the less she liked the things she found.

Maybe it was time to force him to prove his mettle. To deprive him of his spider web, give him a task to address all his apparent failures and then see if he succeeded or died.

That would solve at least _one_ of her problems.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

The Force enveloped Satele like a calm pool, serene and soothing. She floated, directionless, for time untold. That was fine. She had nowhere to go. She was.

 

_Be. Be the axis the galaxy revolves around. Be still._

Last she had managed this level of tranquillity had been her search for their ancient home. She had stopped, just stopped, and let the Force show her the way. At the end of that path, after many a dead end and many more dangers she had to face, Satele had found it, the marvel the Force had lead her towards: Tython.

 

_Tython…_

 

The name reverberated through the stillness surrounding her. For a moment the chagrin that she had broken her trance with her stray thoughts almost caught her. It flowed through her and drifted away.

That hadn’t been her.

The ripples gained strength and where they broke on each other they echoed.

 

_… the cradle of the Jedi …_

_We don’t have a choice._

**_Brother, please!_ **

****

Despair reached for Satele, pain so great she thought she was burning- no there was fire. Fire, death and something breaking. It was a small thing, in all that turmoil, and yet the sound of it drowned out everything else. Her heart filled with sorrow for the loss, but what had been lost? It was important, vital, she needed it as she needed to breathe and it was _gone_.

 

 _I am a child of Thum’en’Ka._  

That voice. Satele _knew_ that voice. She had never heard it so solemn, but she knew it. Who was that woman? Before she could grasp it, it was washed away by the ever increasing cacophony of sounds and impressions.

 

_… a small and sorry creature …_

_No one has to get hurt over this._

_… and that is my shame._

Darkness. So much darkness, warring with the light. Or was it the other way around? Struggling, always struggling, trying to drown each other out.

 

_Surrender. Save a life._

**_Monster!_ **

****

_Once I ascend, all will be tranquil._

The influx was too great. Satele could barely make sense of what little she managed to make out. Was it present? Past? Future? It was too much, she couldn’t-

 _No!_ She had to hold on, she needed to find it. The thing that had been lost. It was the key. _Who was that woman?_

The question echoed through the Force. It erased the ripples in its wake and all else fell quiet.

 

_Hrrtze to’ken na Ushte. All things are difficult before they are easy. Do you understand, my little flower?_

 

That wasn’t her, but she was _there_. Satele could feel it.

 

_Yes, Grandfather._

A sullen youngling, the pout more than audible. Her words were chased by the laugh of an old man.

 

_You will, in time._

The Force caught the words and threw them back at Satele in a rolling whisper. _Understand. You will. Understand._

Would she? Understand what? What the Force was trying to tell her? Or was understanding something what she needed to do to save her people from the coming danger?

Her concentration broke and the answer slid through her fingers like water.

 


	6. Blindly moving forward I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The peace conference is almost upon them.
> 
> You would think that was enough to worry about but the Force has other ideas for Darth Andra. She doesn’t appreciate it. In the slightest.

 

 

_So it begins and the world holds its breath._

_\-    The Chronicles of the Thume, Tales of the Age of Strife_

 

 

 

Alderaan was a beautiful world. It looked to be made for tranquil introspection, one of the few planets that had managed to combine their technological advancement with their environment in full.

There was virtually no pollution, no sprawling industrial zones were swallowing up the forests and lakes. Even the cities themselves fit harmoniously into the mountainous landscape.

The last time Satele had set foot on the planet it had been a war-torn battlefield. The valleys had been ravaged by the passage of Imperial troops and droids. The lush woods had turned to killing fields as the resistance pushed back against the assault.

Hard to believe this was the same world, that had been so beset. Alderaan had recovered well.

She could only hope they hadn’t brought ruin upon its people once more by asking them to host the peace conference. _Fear will not help you. Let it go._

Drinking in the peaceful scenery she tried to find her balance. There was no time to waste on what-ifs. The day they had been working toward was here.

The moment of truth had come. All would reveal itself and soon.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

It had seemed like such a little thing. Just a stopover, before Andra moved on to her destination. A short, stolen moment to remind herself what she was protecting.

She should have known better. The Force was never so kind and neither was her sister.

When her shuttle set down Leli’Ana had already been waiting on the landing pad. In hindsight, that should have been her first warning. She had been distracted by the discomfort crawling up her spine, the lingering traces of regret she hadn’t yet fed to her anger over the Empire’s failures that had made her return to active duty necessary. A mistake.

“Leli.”

“Cass.”

Silence fell between them like an insurmountable gulf. The blustery winds their homeworld Arda III tended toward tore at their robes and hair. It would rain today. A storm was coming.

Her sister’s shoulders heaved in a quiet sigh. “Come on in. You have been missed.”

The path from the landing area to the main compound was as well tread as it had ever been. Dark grey riverstone, that shimmered in all colours of the rainbow like oil slick when the light fell just right. Polished by hundreds of years and feet uncounted it warred with encroaching grass. Nature reclaimed all.

Soon the plants would have to be clipped. That, too, mirrored life’s lessons.

Or so her Grandfather had always said when she had whined about her chores. A small smile tugged at Andra’s lips. He hadn’t been lying but he _had_ tricked her into looking for more wisdom in her tasks. Just as she had her own Grandchildren, years later.

Not that there was none to be found. Wisdom could crop up in the strangest places.

An archway crowned the path, ahead of them, wrought from the same grey and weathered stone. Behind it the narrow forest lane widened into an artificial glade. No technology kept the plants out and so the edges were never perfect. Another of those lessons left behind by their ancestors for their children to find or overlook.

Much of their home was that way. How she had missed it.

The taste of lightning in the back of her throat as the skies prepared to tear themselves asunder, the capricious breeze that would build to howling winds in a heartbeat. The smell of green, growing things underlined with rotting wood.

Arda III was a wild place, strong in the Dark Side. When her ancestors had claimed it, they had left it untamed in their marvel. It still was.

The only thing keeping the beasts that stalked the night at bay was their fear of the greater predators who had made their home here.

The Dojo stood alone.

It wasn’t an expansive building. Most combat lessons took place outside. Dark Side techniques were too destructive to be trained indoors, especially in the hands of precocious children. The things her little monsters had managed on a regular basis…

But they weren’t hers anymore. Andra’s heart twinged with the pain of that loss, no matter how immaterial in the grand picture of things. They were alive. They were still here.

But they weren’t hers.

It was bittersweet, to walk these halls again as a visitor. To be greeted with respectful distance by young men and women she had walked through their first steps in Shii-Cho. Some faces were missing. Perhaps they had decided not to pursue their training to the point of no return. Perhaps they had not.

That was the nature of the Dark Path.

Lost in her musings Andra allowed her sister to lead the way, only realizing their destination when the sound of training blades colliding reached her ears.

The grounds were empty but for the one pair, sparring with reckless abandon and unconcerned with the storm rolling in. It took her a moment to place them, to connect the imperfect but advanced flow of Niman and Ataru to the clumsy beginners they had once been.

_Oh._

The smaller one, still a boy and outmatched in size and reach, caught sight of her and almost ran straight into his opponent’s blade. The young man yelped and tried to correct, only for his more agile counterpart to evade at the last second and vault right over his shoulder. “Grandmother!”

_That he would still call her that. Oh, but her sister was cruel._

The little imp abandoned match, cousin and sword in the middle of the training grounds and dashed straight into her arms. She should chid him for that. She would. As soon as she could fight down the lump in her throat. “You’re here!” By the Force, he was still barely of a height with her sternum. Shouldn’t he have grown more?

“Aki.”

Five years since she had last seen him. She didn’t deserve the title he was affording her. Leli’s eyes, set in a neutral, quietly disapproving mask of an expression, agreed with heartfelt fervour.

But she didn’t say anything.

Disquiet woke in Andra’s chest. It wasn’t like her sister to keep her opinion quiet. Why even bring her here if she so disapproved? She could have kept Aki away from her for the short duration of her visit. That he had once been her best student, the favourite no teacher should have and always did, mattered little.

Their shared blood even less. Ties were wrought from more than that and she had given those ties away the moment she had taken up her mantle for the Empire once more.

_What is going on here?_

Apparently satisfied with his attempt at squeezing the life out of her while she was too struck to properly reciprocate, not that she would do more than pat his back, the boy pulled back and smiled at her in the shining delight that had lead his parents to choosing his name. “Do we leave soon?”

_What?_

Wasn’t he long past that age? He had to know he wasn’t setting foot off their homeplanet until he had completed his trials.

Before Andra could gather herself enough to tell him exactly how much he was not going to accompany her where she was headed, her sister’s calm voice brought her to a screeching halt. “Yes. You should go pack.”

**_What?_ **

Disquiet exploded into shock and dread. _No. No way in the seven hells of Ont’Res._ What, by the Force, was she doing?!

“Yes, Aunt Leli.” He was gone before Andra could deny him.

She rounded on her fellow Sith, fear and confusion fuelling the burning sting of betrayal. “Are you out of your mind? I’m headed straight into the Core! To meet **_Jedi_**! He can’t come with me!”

Anger sparked in her sister’s eyes. She was gearing up to say something truly terrible, Andra could see it in her snarl, and they had always known each other too well, known how to _hurt_ each other-

Someone cleared their throat in a way that said they half hoped not to be heard.

Aki’s abandoned opponent flinched under their sudden, combined attention. “I’ll- I’ll just- May I be excused?”

All ire seemed to flow from Leli’s form, leaving her looking… tired. “Of course, Jasper. Put the swords away, will you?” He left without another word, shoulder’s hunched. It was painful to see that he still hadn’t overcome those habits.

Andra let that pain settle into her core. She wanted what was best for their children. She always had. So did her sister. She didn’t think she had ever seen her so worn. It was right there, now that anger wasn’t blinding her to it. “What happened? Why send him with me?”

For a long moment Leli stared out into the forest, eyes unseeing. Then she said neutrally, “He’s been dreaming.”

_Oh bloody, kriffing shab._

She had forgotten about that. No, that was a lie. She had hoped it didn’t trouble him anymore, that child of her heart who had always been too sensitive to the pull of the Force. That was how it went, for most. You learned and the aches of growing into your powers ceased to bother you.

Or, if you were unlucky, they didn’t.

Prescience was an incredible gift. It was also a pain in the ass, especially if it was a wild and undirected talent. Aki’s ‘feelings’ had always been beyond his control. If that hadn’t changed, had escalated to true-seeing…

They must be nearing a shatterpoint. Maybe they were already _there_.

No sense asking if her sister had taken him to the sorcerers, to see if they could find out more. If her helpless rage was any indication it hadn’t helped much. “What does he see?”

“What doesn’t he see? You know how it is. Bits and pieces. Things he has no name for.” Leli heaved a sigh. “He said you would come. That he would go with you. I don’t think even he knows more than that.”

Sometimes Andra really hated the Force, from the bottom of her heart.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_This and this and this…_

Randomly throwing what you got your hands on into a pack should have ended in nothing but a mess. For most people it would have. 

_And that. Why do I need insect spray?_

He shouldn’t be using his Force sense like this. Aunt Leli was always going on about forming bad habits and discipline. But she _had_ said to hurry. He’d check it before he left. Just in case the Force forgot that he needed underwear. Again.

It forgot the weirdest things but ancient, mystic, all-encompassing powers that might-or-might-not be alive probably didn’t have any underwear.

_They don’t have insect spray either._

Aki paused and took in the sight of his room. It looked as if a bomb had gone off. _Oh, kriff._

Someone behind him scoffed. “I hope you’re planning on cleaning that up or Grandmother Leli’Ana really _will_ skin you when you get back.”

“Shut _up_ , I know,“ he trailed off, catching on to the wavering undertone under their usual ribbing. His cousin, when he turned to look, was painfully aloof. His eyes darted to the right side of Aki’s face. Jasper did that, when he felt bad about something. Stare at the scars he had left ages ago in a training accident, as if he couldn’t help himself.

His Force presence was twisty and terrible. Slowly, Aki let the insect spray fall into his half-finished pack. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Jasper’s mouth bent into a scowl. That was pretty much his default and only meant the unease underneath was all the more obvious to someone who knew him. And Aki knew him very well.

He didn’t push. He knew better than that. He hadn’t, once, and that was the whole reason his face looked the way it did.

After a little while his patience was rewarded. If you could call it a reward to watch his cousin’s expression crumble at the edges. “Are you sure you-” His voice broke halfway through the sentence. “There’ll be _Jedi_. You never said there would be-“

_Jedi._

The word settled into Aki’s stomach like a weight of lead. “I didn’t know.” He almost wished his cousin hadn’t told him. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with all the mixed feelings it sparked.

_They were the enemy. They were Force users, different ones, and how could that not be interesting? They were said to steal the children of Sith and keep them from their families.  
_

But underneath the tangle thrummed the same thing that had haunted him for weeks. _Go. You need to go. Go, go, go._

Aki squared his shoulders. “It doesn’t change anything. Are you going to help me or what?”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“You will be on your best behaviour.”

“Yes, Grandmother.”

“You will not talk strangers. You will not talk to the Jedi. You will not talk to anyone!”

“Yes, Grandmother.”

“You will stay within sight of me or my apprentice _at_ _all times_ , do you understand?”

“ _Yes_ , Grandmother.”

 

It was a long flight to Alderaan.

 


	7. Blindly moving forward II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future is always in motion. 
> 
> For some things that is true. Other things stay very much the same, no matter how the galaxy bends around them.

 

 

_2:00_

They had arrived. Satele would have liked that to be a cause of satisfaction, if not happiness. The truth was their very presence was so tumultuous and Dark she had a hard time holding on to what little peace she had found. Marr had been here for two days and she still hadn’t gotten used to his towering monolith of an aura.

Andra was almost worse. Her Force impression twisted and snapped like an ill-tempered Koth hound. Unlike her fellow Councilor she wore no mask but that only meant Satele could see her eyes, glowing like banked coals, glaring at her across the table.

 _It was_ , she thought, _entirely different from meeting a Sith on the battlefield._ This encounter would not end after a quick exchange of blows.

“Let’s begin.”

\----------------------------------------

 

Cytharat had expected many things from this day, up to and including a sudden transition from diplomacy to… aggressive diplomacy. That still wasn’t off the table, of course. Negotiations had barely started.

So, he had expected much. He hadn’t expected to be relegated to what amounted to babysitting.

All he could do when faced with his Master shoving a teenager at him and telling him in no uncertain terms to _not leave him on his own for even a second,_ was to swallow the plaintive enquiry of whether he truly had done that badly.

He hadn’t been in his Master’s service for long enough to read the undercurrents of her mood. More often than not her temper was flaring so high that all fine details drowned in the storm. Today, her Force presence might as well have been a tornado.

He had thought the pre-arrangements had gone rather well. Not perfectly, the Jedi had proved to be stubborn, but well.

_Stop dithering. It is unbecoming. Your Master has given you a task, see to it._

_… what, by the Force, am I supposed to do with a child?_

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Being on a new planet was _weird_. Everything was different. Not much but enough. Even the angles on the buildings were streamlined and curved instead of crisp, as if someone had tried to build a river. 

The guy his Grandmother had left him with was a bit weird too. Not a bad kind of weird, though, like the rest of it.

“Do you… want to play a game?”

Aki snorted. “I’m thirteen, not _three_.”

Yeah, it was probably safe to say Cytharat had no idea what he was doing. It was funny, really. He looked like the sort of person Aunt Leli always tried to badger them into being. Dignified and serious. ‘The picture of a poised warrior,’ she called it, ‘banking their emotions until they call upon them to do their bidding.’

Like Grandmother Cass. Though she wasn’t really in for the solemn thing most days. Cytharat had that down pat.

It made Aki want to poke him until something interesting happened. Violent, probably, but interesting.

… this was exactly what his teachers always told him was going to get his head torn off one day.

_You’re not here to have fun. You have to do… something._

Why couldn’t the Force be more specific?

_Ugh._

Maybe he could help it along. Aki had a feeling he would know what was what when he found it. Whatever it was he was supposed to find. “Can we go exploring?”

Cytharat looked like he was trying not to look relieved. “Long as we stay within the boundaries of the estate I see no problem with that.”

_Score._

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_1:30_

“You can’t possibly think we’ll agree to that kind of stipulation.” Darth Marr’s voice brooked no argument. His arms were crossed in front of his chest. In combination with his very exotic fashion choices it turned him into a bulwark, threatening by its very existence.

Master Din didn’t let that faze him. “Now see, any disruption of the treaty on either side is a crime against the other one. Naturally, the criminal should be tried by the injured party.”

“Any disruption of the treaty is an act of _treason_. It should be handled as such.”

Satele leaned back and did _not_ escalate the discussion by a pointed reminder of who, exactly, thought torture and execution a viable punishment in the court of law. It would help nothing. Orgus had a level head on his shoulders and if he was avoiding the murky depths of morality on the issue he had his reasons.

She had been sceptical of Master Gnost-Dural’s advice when it came to her partner for this mission. Orgus Din was a model Jedi and a highly respected member of the council but he had also spent the better part of the war in the trenches. He was well known to prefer action over words and this was one of the most important negotiations the Order had ever faced.

Yet despite her misgivings Orgus had come through so far. There was something about his style of debate, however unpolished, the Sith responded well to. He, in turn, wasn’t overly fussed when their tempers spiked.

Satele took the breathing room that afforded her to let herself sink into a light trance. The Force was tugging at her, like a child begging for attention. There was something here. Something connected to her vision.

If she could only pinpoint _what_.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

‘Exploring’ had gone fine so far. It kept his charge occupied, thank the Force, and Cytharat had to admit to enjoying it somewhat himself.

There had been little time to study the cultural and architectural intricacies apparent even with their limited range of movement. His mind had been occupied with other things.

The airy, open style Alderaanians preferred was appealing. A little reminiscent of Dromund Kaas, even, when one looked closely. The high windows and rounded terraces would not have looked entirely out of place, there.

 _Curious_.

Cytharat was torn from his musings by a most unwelcome sight. _Oh no._

Tension seeped into his muscles and he almost reached for the ‘saber he wasn’t permitted to carry. The very last thing he needed. So far he had managed to skirt the attendant Jedi, as his Master had made her wish for minimal contact with her grandchild plain, but it seemed his luck had run out.

“Look at that.” It was the human, the one that had found himself such a fine match in Lachris. Cytharat almost groaned aloud. “Still here? Figured you’d be off somewhere, doing your Master’s sinister bidding-“ His eyes caught on Aki, because of course they did.

If that chatterbox got his hooks into her child his Master was going to end him.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Vorin fell silent, swanky smile sliding off his face. _What’s a kid doing here? I thought the estate was closed off._

Slip of a thing, dwarfed by the vaulted ceiling and the Dark Lord in his company both. His first instinct was to get the boy away from there. Halfway decent conversationalist or not, the pureblood was a _Sith_.

Then he caught onto the inconsistencies.

Thin, wiry. Bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet with the boundless energy of a child, but the grace of someone trained for balance.

The boy twisted around to look at him and Vorin’s stomach turned into a ball of ice. Wide, curious amber eyes framed by dark curls. Set in an elfin face that was half a ruin. Scars dominated the right side of it, crawling outwards from his jaw in a web reminiscent of frost on a window pane.

_No. Not frost. Lightning. Force lightning._

No natural electricity would have left damage like that behind.

_Bloody kriff. I didn’t think apprentices came that young._

Now that Vorin was looking for it was obvious. Not all of the Darkness stalking the room was Cytharat’s. Where his presence was almost calm, if one could call the coiled menace of a hunting Hssiss _calm_ , the kid’s was… bouncy. It sparked and flared with emotion that had Vorin fighting against the urge to twitch and tell him off for his lack of control.

But he wouldn’t learn control, would he? That fizzing, shadowy thing would become something terrible. He should- Maybe he could-

_Don’t be an idiot. You can’t take him. The Sith will burn this conference to the ground and where will that leave you?_

Sometimes Vorin really hated the greater picture. It just wasn’t fair.

The kid’s face twisted into a grimace. “Who’re you? You feel funny.”

Such a childlike thing to say. He had to grit his teeth against the ugly laugh that wanted to escape. “Yeah, funny, that’s me. I’m Vorin, nice to meet you, kiddo.” _And I am sorry. So very sorry, you can’t imagine._

Lord Cytharat must have seen, or felt, some of his conflict. He took a step forward, subtly inserted himself between them, his golden eyes hard. “He’s one of the Jedi I told you about, Aki.” The warning in his pleasant tone was clear.

_Yeah, message received._

“Really?”

Vorin didn’t have the time to decipher more than ‘curiosity’ and maybe there was still hope, if he could be so curious about a Jedi, before the pureblood outright invaded his space, binding all his attention to the threat.

“Yes. And he will leave now, so we can go back to our explorations.”

_Oh, will I?_

Every last bit of defiance Vorin had ever nurtured bristled at that. “Maybe I’d like to go exploring too.”

The Sith’s snarled, quietly, but this close he caught it alright. “No. You don’t. Move _along_ Jedi.”

The hell he would. “I don’t think I will.” There was respecting the boundaries of their accord and then there was _moving along_ when he saw a child in danger. A child that couldn’t even know how slippery the slope was they were placing him on, pushing him down without a thought-

_Wait._

The change was so subtle it took Vorin a moment to puzzle it out. Against his better judgement he looked away from his opponent.

“Don’t think you can evade me, Jedi-“

“Shut up for a moment! Where’s the kid?”

In any other situation it would have been a treat to see the unflappable Lord’s ire evaporate into shock.

Catharat whirled around, no thought given to the Jedi at his back but Vorin already knew what he would find. Or wouldn’t.

_Well, kriff._

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_1:00_

It was _right there_ , crawling on Aki’s skin like a ground-level discharge waiting to happen.

_Stupid Force._

When it had pulled on him in the hall he had thought it had finally decided to actually _do_ something. Ditching Cytharat hadn’t been his best showing but Grandmother wouldn’t kill the guy for losing him. Probably.

The _point_ was it had felt like he was finally getting somewhere. Turned out ‘somewhere’ was wandering in circles until he found the edges of the estate. Wide, grassy plains stretched all the way to the horizon. If you squinted you could make out snow-capped mountains in the distance.

It was pretty.

_But there’s nothing here!_

“Ugh, I swear.” He patted the big nose under his hand. “If it wants something from me why doesn’t it come out and _tell_ me?”

His conversational partner huffed. That seemed to be the extent of their opinion. “Yeah, you’re totally right.”

Aki picked another flower to feed to the gentle giant. The nerf gingerly picked it from his fingers. At least the local animals were cute. Nothing like the ones at home. The forest cats and other critters were more likely to tear off your hand than let you feed them, on a good day.

There was a quiet gasp from somewhere behind him.

Aki’s muscles tightened in response. He hadn’t noticed anyone coming up. But he had been pretty busy being frustrated, so there was that. _Relax. If they want to ambush you they obviously suck._

He glanced in the direction from the corner of his eye. Or he wanted to. That turned into outright staring when the Force hit him like a sledgehammer.

There was a girl, in a simple, cream dress. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders and fluttered in the breeze.

_This one, this one, this one._

He shook his head to try and dislodge the Force impression ringing in his ears. Kriff, but today was an all or nothing day, was it? “Hey there.” She took a step back, hands curled up in front of her chest. It was kind of cute, like the nerf. “Are you alright?”

“Aren’t you afraid of it?” It came tumbling out as if the words couldn’t decide which one should come first.

The non-sequitur left Aki blinking in confusion. “Afraid of what?”

She pointed, at something behind him, and he had to make himself stay lose and calm once again. When he turned there was nothing there. Just the grazing bovine. He gave her a look that was pure disbelief. “Really?”

Her mouth twisted in apprehension. “But they’re so big! Mama always says you shouldn’t go near them. They don’t know their strength.”

The soft, warm nose under his palm twitched. It tickled, a little. “That’s silly. Just look at it.”

It was a giant mountain of fluff. That and…

“It won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt it. Can’t you feel it?”

She should. She was so _bright_ it almost burned but she should be able to feel it alright.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

An hour ago, Vorin would have said nothing short of orbital bombardment would faze Cytharat and maybe not even that.

 _Half_ an hour ago he would have sworn the man was complicit to child abuse of the worst order.

Now, he found himself in the uncomfortable position of playing the voice of reason to a Sith who was turning the estate upside down in a frantic search for his charge, that looked to be motivated by rapidly escalating worry.

“Calm down! He can’t have gotten far.”

The pureblood ignored him entirely, striding into the next room like man on a mission. A mission that had gone south. “So you’ve said. Repeatedly. Yet we still haven’t found him!”

He couldn’t argue that. _Where the hells did that kid get off to?_

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_0:30_

“I really don’t think we should be down here.”

Aki’s new friend knew the _best_ places. Even if she needed encouragement going there. “Aw, come on, what can it hurt?”

Jaesa mustered the darkened stairs leading further into the lower levels of the estate, supremely unimpressed. “We could break our necks and _die_.”

At least she had gotten over her reserve towards him fast enough. Aki laughed. “We won’t die. Let’s go!”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_0:20_

“What, exactly, is the problem with this kind of approach?” No two hours in and Satele was nursing a burgeoning headache. It might be the tension of being in the presence of so much Darkness.

Or it might be the quiet urging of the Force she couldn’t shake. Of _course_ there was danger. There were Sith at the other end of the table. Displeased Sith. Not that Sith ever displayed much but the most negative and destructive of emotions.

Darth Andra’s mouth was curled in disgust. “Of course you wouldn’t find anything objectionable about addressing the planets in question by order of distance from the central point of _your_ government.”

She had a point. _Nevertheless_. Coruscant might have been the seat of the Republic but the Core was also, quite literally, the center of the galaxy. “Please, do enlighten me how _you_ would wish to handle this.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_0:10_

“Alright, we’ve searched everything. He’s just not _here_.” By now Vorin was starting to get worried too. It couldn’t be that hard to find a child! They were _Force users_ for kriff’s sake!

But the Force was entirely unhelpful. Judging by the expression on Cytharat’s face he wasn’t having any more luck on that front than he was.

Maybe the kid was hiding on purpose? Should someone that age be able to shield this well? _Wouldn’t his watcher have known it, if he could do that?_

“Look, let’s head to the comm station. Maybe someone built in a life-sign detector or knows where to find one-“

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_0:05_

It was dark down here.

They had found sensors for the lights but none of them had worked.

Jaesa felt they had been wandering through the wide cellars for forever. The ceiling was much lower here than upstairs. Everything felt so much smaller.

She was trying to be brave but it was hard. Her grip on Aki’s hand was so strong her fingers were going cold.

He hadn’t complained yet.

She knew he was looking for _something_. He had told her that he was supposed to find something and it just wasn’t _there_ , which was the whole reason she had shown him the servants corridors in the first place.

All Alderaanian estates had them, so that the help could come and go without being seen. Mama always said it was the mark of a good servant that they could keep their household running so smoothly no one could even tell they were there.

They were close. She could feel it too, now.

And it was scary.

One of the pillars ahead looked weird, like something was growing out of it. “Hey, Aki. What’s that?” Her whisper sounded so loud. Maybe if they were quiet it wouldn’t hear them?

Her friend squeezed her hand and pulled her along. He was so much braver than her. She would have to be like that, if she really wanted to become a Jedi. To protect people.

She squeezed back.

The thing sticking out of the pillar was half as tall as her and round-ish. It had a glowing display on the front that threw harsh flickers of red light over both of them as the numbers on it ticked down.

**_0:04_ **

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“Alright, so we _can_ agree to discuss the systems by distance from the core, clockwise, starting with those closest to Imperial borders.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“We have to tell someone!”

“Jaesa, there’s no time!”

 

\----------------------------------------

****

**_0:03_ **

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“I swear, if the detector doesn’t find him-“

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“Then what are we supposed to **_do_**?”

“You’re asking **_me_**?”

 

\----------------------------------------

****

**_0:02_ **

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“Very well. Corsin.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“ ** _You_** were looking for it!”

“I **_know_**!”

 

\----------------------------------------

****

**_0:01_ **

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“What the fuck. He’s in the conference room?”

“No, he’s not, look at the depth readings. He’s _under_ it.”

“How did he even _get_ there?”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“Just- Come on, help me!”

 

\----------------------------------------

****

**_0:00_ **

 

 


	8. Interlude II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some are facing danger, each for their own reasons... 
> 
> Others, they can do nothing but wait for what will come of that.

 

 

The waiting was the worst. The helplessness of it. The uncertainty.

Jasper tried to keep busy. If he didn’t the minutes would tick by, stretching into eternity. He knew it well enough. He tested the truth of it every night, lying awake because where the presence of his little cousin should have rested, flickering even when asleep, was only emptiness.

He should have grown out of this. Maybe if he had been born here he would have. Aki certainly never had these problems when one of their relatives disappeared for a trial. He would grow serious and quiet when asked about them, but that was it.

_They’ll be back. Or they won’t._

It was one of the things Jasper struggled with the most. He couldn’t say why. _Before_ it had been the same. Before Grandmother Leli’Ana had strode through the slave pens he had grown up in and said ‘ _this one’_.

People disappeared. It happened. You buried your loss and moved on.

Somehow it was different when they _chose_ to go. Chose to prove their worth, do their duty or die trying. There was no one to be angry at, nothing to rail against. Just the waiting.

Today it saw him at the shrine. It was both better and worse, here.

The breeze that never quite stopped blew through the open halls, with few walls to keep it out. In the center, the tree it had been built around. Massive and pitch black it reached for the sky.

Slowly Jasper made his way there, soaking up the solemnity that hung in the air, the sound of the hundreds of wind chimes hanging from its branches. Each one a name, a memory, their accomplishments sung to every person who came to visit. The history of his family.

There should have been millions.

Jasper swallowed, fear and sorrow lancing through him. _If he dies out there…_

If Aki didn’t come back he would die Nameless. They would give away his things to those who needed them and that would be it. His memory would fade away.

Not completely, not immediately, but there would be no place for him here. At most, someone would put a crystal on the wall, down in the cave where they put the memories of those to rest who hadn’t earned the right to be Named.

There were many of them. So very many.

At every major trial, Grandmother Leli’Ana put the choice before them, to rise to the challenge or leave her care. To move to the village and leave their chance at a Name behind.

 

_If you fail, you will die. If you die, you will be forgotten._

She had no time for unwilling students. The Dark Path was harsh and hard and no one could walk it for you. You had to find that strength, that resolve, in yourself.

It had taken Jasper a while to realize the choice was for him, too. That he could leave the Dojo and serve their family in a different way. Could live a more quiet life, marry and have children that might be strong in the Force.

But…

Deep in his heart, where the hatred and despair still lived that had been born in his first years, when his mother was sold, when people around him died of neglect or cruelty, when he was only a thing, something had risen with burning, undeniable force.

 

_I want to be remembered._

It was not the same for him as for his relatives. They were raised to want it because it was an honor. Taught that glory was found in battle, in challenge. Only the best could wrest their Names from the Force. To do so was one of the highest accomplishments, proof you were worthy to become Sith.

He had trouble with those ideals sometimes. 

His Grandmother had never faulted him for it, though. She had watched his struggle and eventual decision with pride.

 

_It matters not what puts you on the Path, child. All that matters is that you find it._

Jasper could only hope his cousin would be strong enough to survive his Force-given test. That he would return, so he didn’t have to visit a grave without a marker on it.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Few times in his long life had been such a trial as Gnost-Dural was experiencing in those weeks of in-between.

The whole Temple had an air about it as if the Order was holding its collective breath. Every day might bring news of the breakdown of the negotiations and the murder of their Grandmaster at the hands of the Sith she sought to find peace with.

And, in the middle of it all, his former padawan.

Often, he found himself recalling Vorin’s last holo call, reporting in to him and Satele both about what he had learned in the preliminaries.

 

_Look, I know how this sounds but make them bleed for every inch._

Unlike others, who would have intended to caution against flagging in the face of the Sith threat, against giving anything at all because they were the enemy, his student had sounded as if he was feeling his way through a puzzle.

 

_I swear, it’s like they fight us just for the sake of fighting._

 

The estimation had done nothing so much as reminded Gnost-Dural of his suspicions that they were missing vital intel where the Sith were concerned. But what did that say about their chances at success?

_Calm yourself. You must trust in the Force and the steadfastness of your comrades. It will see them through._

 

 


	9. Declaration of War I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And all was silent... until it wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feelings are had, in abundance.  
> Vorin curses a lot.

 

 

_So On’Chaka asked his children, ‘What chains a sun? What keeps a storm at bay?’_

_\-    The Chronicles of the Thume, Tales of the First Age_

 

 

 

Something was ringing. The sound was coming from far away and all sides at once, as if Satele was underwater.

 

_Why would I be underwater? I didn’t go swimming, did I?_

 

Was it the Force again? She tried to pry her eyes open. They obeyed but slowly, so slowly. Everything was packed in synthmesh.

She was lying on the ground. The lights hurt. All was silent but for the ringing. Breathing hurt, too, but she _was_ breathing.

By the little gods, Satele was almost positive she had a concussion. Thinking was akin to dredging through mud.

The scene started to come into focus.

The room was in shambles, the table was gone. Across from her someone was lying on the floor, half buried under rubble. A mop of dark hair. Black body armor. Limp and still. If only she could remember-

 

_What happened? Where am I?_

 

She grasped for her center, for the Force, so it would heal her, so she could find out what was going on-

The figure was moving. Its hands curled into fists. Then it started to lever itself up and their eyes met.

In a flash of burning orange it all came back to her. The Sith. The negotiation. The danger. She had thought the Force meant _them_ but-

 

_Oh no._

 

Satele watched emotions chase over Darth Andra’s face rapidly as she tried to get her own bearings, tried to get _up_ -

Confusion, dawning realization. Where she was still releasing her shock, the Sith’s expression started to twist into a mask of rage. Then, curiously, Andra froze. For a moment something took her Satele could have sworn was _terror_.

It was gone too quick to say, drowned in incandescent fury.

Before Satele had even managed to get her arms under her, Andra had clawed her way out from under the rubble pile and was gone.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_What doesn’t he see? You know how it is._

_No._

 

_He said you would come. That he would go with you._

 

_No!_

 

_Grandmother! You’re here!_

 

**_No!_ **

 

Andra didn’t feel any pain. Whether she evaded the bits and pieces of the walls and ceiling that fallen and blockaded the hallway leading to the conference room, or broke through them physically she didn’t know. Everything was a blur.

 

_Bits and pieces._

_Things he has no name for._

 

There was a hole inside her chest, a bottomless pit of dread that threatened to swallow her whole.

 

_No. Not him. Not yet._

It wasn’t time. He was still too young. _But that wasn’t true, was it?_

 

_Not like this._

She should never have brought him. They didn’t leave their home until they had their final trials! He hadn't even had a chance at gaining his Name. She should have-

Andra reached the atrium and just barely caught herself in time. Where the floor should have been was a gaping maw of broken tile. The light that streamed in through the cracks in the ceiling was lost long before it could do more than hint at the depth.

A cool, closed-off part of her took in the damage and thought, _Directed baradium bomb._

Limited radial range. Incredible destructive capabilities, in a longitudinal capacity. Most useful for precision strikes against stationary targets. Favored by those that wanted to blow something sky-high and survive watching the fireworks up close and personal.

 

_By all the spirits of our ancestors._

 

For a shameful, burning second she was tempted to hope he had run.

She knew better than that. She had _taught_ him better than that. If this was what had called to him, if Aki had seen- If he had realized- He wouldn’t have gone. As he _should_. A Sith was honor-bound to serve. To live, to breathe, to _die_ for the Empire and the will of the Force, harnessed to do their bidding as it bent them to its cause in turn.

She tried to tell herself she didn’t _know_ , she couldn’t be sure he had been anywhere close to that explosion but-

 

_The Force is never so kind._

 

\----------------------------------------

 

The scanner glitched out half a second before the world went to shit.

There was no warning, no trembling, no nothing. One flash at the edge of Vorin's senses, so quick and sudden it felt like being dipped in boiling water, and all hell broke loose. The source must have been very well shielded indeed.

 

_No wonder we didn’t catch the kid’s presence. If he was down there- aw hells._

 

He scrapped himself off the floor, spitting dust and crumbled masonry.

The Sith was faster. Cytharat was off like a shot before he could even think ‘Impaired structural integrity’.

 

 _… oh kriff all of that_.

 

Ignoring all his fresh bruises Vorin took after him. If this was an assassination attempt- who was he kidding. This _was_ an assassination and they’d all be kriffing lucky if it was just an _attempt_.

 

_Fragging dosh. The Grandmaster. Kriff, kriff, kriff!_

 

He took another corner and almost ran into six solid feet of pureblooded Sith.

In front of them, to the right, the floor ended. It was just gone. Beyond the lip of it stretched a crater, easily sixty feet in length, eating up the adjacent rooms. Diagonally above, an almost perfectly round hole was stamped into the ceiling and upper levels. _Screw me. Is that sunlight?_

But, if he had to guess, that wasn’t what had stopped Cytharat dead in his tracks. At the edge of the pit stood Darth Andra, radiating so much rage Vorin thought he might drown in it. It was a swamp, rising up to drag him down.

Compared that deluge Cytharat’s stalking Hssiss suddenly looked like a fluffy little ball of cutesy, cartoonish thunderclouds.

Even _Marr_ wasn’t a blip on his radar until the man stalked into view from the ruined hallway in all his pointy glory.

 

_The Grandmaster- Is she-_

 

No, there she was. Battered and bruised but upright, helping along Master Orgus. Vorin would have slumped in relief if he didn’t feel like Andra would devour him if he relaxed at all.

Her voice, gravely, rough and dangerously flat, cut through the silence. “He was down there, wasn’t he.” It wasn’t a question. “Did, or did I not, order you to watch over him without fail, Cytharat?”

Her thunderstruck apprentice swallowed. “You did, Master.” He had the look of a man bracing himself to face a firing squad, if anybody could manage that with that much dignity.

Vorin made the connection and went white as a sheet, ice reaching for his heart. _Oh kriff._

Sith weren’t Jedi. Sith didn’t believe in non-attachment, not the same way Jedi did. Sith could have _families_ , could have whole clans of Sith-y relatives that might or might not murder each other for a lark.

 

_Wide, curious amber eyes framed by dark curls._

Andra’s hair looked like it might curl, when it wasn’t plastered down by dust and sweat. If he divorced himself from her sheer threat, the curve of her jaw could be called delicate.

 

_Shab, that was **her** kid._

 

Of course it had been. Who but their Master could and would order a Sith apprentice to watch a child?

And he had _failed_. Failed as spectacularly as anyone could-

 

_She’s going to kill him._

 

It wasn’t even speculation. Vorin could see it on her face. It was, ironically, the calm of it. Empty, devoid of tranquillity it promised nothing but a coming groundquake. Someone would pay. Someone would _die_ for this. She would murder her student, right here, right now.

 

_I can’t let that happen. I have to do something._

 

It wasn’t right. There was nothing Cytharat could have done, after he lost sight of the tyke and- _That was my fault._

His fault. His fault the kid had got away, that he had been anywhere near that disaster in the first place. That he- _Force._

Help finally arrived, headed by another Jedi, more people behind them. Still grasping for what he could do, could say, to mitigate the fallout it took Vorin a second to realize that there was something wrong with that picture. _Wait. That’s not Kerum._

The person heaving for breath in the doorway shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t even be on the _planet_.

Apparently, the Grandmaster agreed, if her startled confusion was any indication. “Master Karr?”

The howling of the Dark Side cut off as if someone had flicked a switch.

The void it left behind was even more ominous.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_Nomen Karr._

The bastard that had cost them all, but one more than most.

Who would sabotage the conference? Who would dare to bomb two Council members and the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, about to hammer out the future of the Empire on decision of the Dark Council itself?

 

_Nomen Karr._

 

Slowly the pieces started to come together. The picture they formed set Andra's soul alight. “I assume you have a reason to be here.”

Outrage stole over his face but before he could answer his Grandmaster did it for him. “No, he does not.”

That stopped Karr dead in his tracks. “What? Grandmaster Shan, you ordered me to join you yourself. I know I’m late-“

 

_I knew it. That filth._

Who would dare? Who would see it as a chance and grasp it, heedless of the damage done?

_Oh, when I get my hands on you, you will suffer in ways you can’t imagine. You will beg me for death and I will deny you._

The Jedi were still prattling on but she couldn’t have cared less. Andra cleaved right through their argument, voice hard. “Cytharat.”

Her apprentice’s rigid form tensed even more. “Yes, Master.”

“Find the traitor. Bring him to me.”

Baras had made a fatal mistake today. She wouldn’t give him the chance to do so again.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Somewhere in a tunnel underneath the upper crust of Alderaan someone choked on a lungful of dust, coughing in the dark.

 


	10. Declaration of War II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doing the bidding of the Force isn’t easy. In fact it well and truly sucks. 
> 
> In which a price is paid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay people, Dark Themes ahead. If you want the spoiler-y trigger-warnings, they’re in the notes at the bottom of the chapter. 
> 
> Partly inspired by pomegrenadier’s Burnout. Hard to say how much of it is your genius worming its way into my brain and how much comes from… *canonical spoilers redacted* aka certain happenings in certain playthroughs that are rather fixed points for people with a certain destiny.  
> 

 

 

_Honor rarely is served by that which is convenient._

_\-    Tir’Azule al Thum_

 

 

 

“You cannot be serious.” Satele winced internally at the delivery. It was entirely justified, they had all had a trying day. Still, a Jedi should have more composure even if she was sick and tired of feeling out of step with what was happening. Her mouth running away from her truly was no help in that.

Neither did diplomatic envoys that were, clearly, _insane_.

Maybe she wasn’t the only one who had hit her head. “You want to _continue_?”

They had to cordon off the estate and surrounding countryside. Alderaan’s lower levels were notoriously unstable. Disregarding the injuries caused by the blast, directly or indirectly, the sabotage itself and the active manhunt for the responsible parties, it just wasn’t _save_. The walls could come down around their ears, quite literally, at any moment. Even establishing a triage area had been nothing but a necessary risk. For Force's sake, there were still people unaccounted for!

They had to take a break, at least until the chaos had settled. Until they could all approach this with clarity of thought and an open mind.

The Sith, apparently, saw things very differently.

Darth Marr’s mask was as inscrutable as ever. “Obviously the goal of this gutless act of terrorism was to disrupt the proceedings.” What a neat way to say it had been supposed to take them all out, permanently. “I, for one, am not in the habit of serving my enemies. Are you?”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Everything hurt.

The air was stale. His throat was so dry Aki was hard pressed to force his body not to have a coughing fit with every breath. His mouth tasted as if he had bitten into a solid block of ferrocrete and kept chewing.

_Urg._

When he opened his eyes they were gritty and disgusting. It was worse than the time he had caught the swamp fever and that was saying something.

There was nothing to see. Only darkness.

Aki had to make himself breathe through a wash of panic and almost choked again.

_No. Think. Think, think, think. Fear won’t help you if you don’t think._

It was easy to remember the lesson. Much harder to actually apply it in the face of being yanked back to the moment Jasper had shoved a fistful of lightning into his face and then- Nothing. The numbness had faded, the pain had too, but he had been half-blind and deaf for over a month.

Aunt Leli hadn’t been sure it would fix itself at all. It had been… bad.

This was worse.

_Get a **grip** , you’re not blind. You’re not. It’s just dark._

He pressed his eyes closed, because that made it better and fuck ‘facing your fears’ with a rusty spoon, he needed to focus.

Somewhere off to the side someone was whimpering. The helpless sound wormed its way through his own terror.

_Jaesa._

It all came back, in the jumbled pictures of a glitching holo. The nerf. Jaesa. The cellar.

_The bomb._

Had the ceiling come down? Were they buried under the house?

“J’sa?” It came out as a croak.

The whimper escalated into a sob. _Kriff._

Reflexively, Aki groped around in the dark, even if it didn’t make sense, she wasn’t close enough, there was no way-

“Jaesa, talk to me.” What if she had broken something? What if the barrel hadn’t been enough and-

“Aki?” She sounded so _small_. Small and scared.

She was just a little girl. Given half a chance she had chattered at him about her parents, servants for some highborn noble. Had boasted shyly about learning to work as a handmaiden and sneaking into estate gardens to pick flowers. How much of an _adventure_ that was.

_And then Master Karr came and he tested me. He said I could be a Jedi!_ Her bright, bright smile, as bright as her presence in the Force, swam before his mind’s eye. The way the Force had sung with _rightness_ when she looked at him like that had burned itself straight into Aki’s soul.

“I’m right here. Don’t move, okay?”

He wanted to ask her if she was hurt but that would be stupid. Of course she was hurt. He felt like his body was a solid bruise from the top of his head right down to his feet. Jaesa wouldn’t be any better. She couldn’t tell him how bad it really was, no one had trained her to do that.

She was a civilian. A non-combatant. She wasn’t _Sith_.

People that weren’t Sith were _breakable_. 

Even if the Jedi _had_ trained her, Aki had heard enough stories about how they didn’t prepare their apprentices to endure the way Sith did. Didn’t teach them how to tough it out. He had always thought that was incredibly dumb.

If you didn’t know how to push past the pain, past the shock and the fear, how were you going to survive a _real_ fight?

Or this.

_Get your act together. She’s not Sith but **you** are. _

Not fully, he wasn’t there yet, but he could- he could do this.

“I’ll come get you. Just don’t move.”

“O-okay.” There were tears in her voice but Aki could hear how much she was trying to keep it together.

If she could do it, so could he. Starting with the reason he wasn’t over there _already,_ the one that his mind was shying away from.

_You’re Sith. Don’t be a baby about this. She needs you._

With all the bull-headed determination Aki could scrape together he fumbled for his own shoulder with his left hand. It was harder than it should have been seeing as it was _attached to him._

His shirt was slippery and wet.

_Breathe. Focus._

_Fear is a warning. Pain is a signal._

Halfway down to his elbow the skin got. It got weird. Like it wasn’t- As if the- the- Aki had to wrestle down a surge of nausea with trembling lips. Then he made himself think it.

_Like it wasn’t properly attached to anything. Like wrinkly… meat._

As if touching it, thinking it, made it _real_ somehow, agony pulsed through him. Suddenly, shockingly, his right side was alive with pain, singing through his shoulder, through his arm- where his arm should be.

His fingers were slick with blood. It had to be blood. It couldn’t be anything else.

_Focus. Just breathe. You’ve broken bones before._

He had. Badly. But it hadn’t been- It wasn’t-

He gasped, swallowed a sob and forced himself to breathe more deeply.

**_Focus._ **

_It’s fuel. Just fuel.  
_

_Do you **want** to die down here?_

_Do you want to let Jaesa die here, alone, in the dark, because you couldn’t get **over** yourself?_

Rage kindled in his chest, flaring fever-bright.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Jaesa tried not to cry. Tears were rolling down her cheeks regardless.

It was so dark, darker than the cellar had been, and her hands were scraped raw. Her knees were bruised horribly, it hurt to move them and she had no idea where her left shoe had gone.

She didn’t know what to do. All she wanted was to curl up until someone came to save her.

But no one knew where she was. How would they even find her?

_Aki knows where I am. **He** will come. _

That was true. That was _always_ true. She didn’t know how she knew that.

But Aki was in just as much trouble as she was, wasn’t he? They had found the- the bomb and he hadn’t known what to do either.

_But he figured it out,_ a stubborn part of her pointed out.

He had found something for them to hide in, one of the big metal barrels lining the wall. Then he had shown her how to grab the bomb and _pull._ With her mind. Together they had ripped it right off the pillar and thrown it as far as they could. Or maybe the pillar had gone with it, she hadn’t _seen_ seen what they did.

Jaesa wasn’t sure what had happened next. She had the vague impression that was a good thing. Maybe she shouldn’t try and remember.

There was a gasp somewhere ahead. Was that- was it-

Suddenly everything became more frightening. The darkness was _hungry_ , hungry and hot, even though she was shivering in her summer dress. “Aki?”

“I’ll be right there Jaesa. Right- right there.”

That wasn’t nearly as comforting as it had been before. His voice wasn’t right. It was-

There was a horrible, _wet_ sound.

“Aki?!”

No answer. Jaesa pressed both hands to her mouth and whimpered. She remembered the cellar. The way the bomb had felt. Remembered thinking, _Maybe if I’m quiet it won’t hear me._

Something touched her shoulder. She pressed her eyes closed muffled a scream.

She didn’t even know why, it had found her, it was touching her-

“Jaesa?”

Her world tilted sideways. Nothing made sense.

 

Aki was there. _There was a monster, in the dark._

He had said he would come. He would _always_ come for her. _It was looking for her._

He had found her, he was there. _It was terrible and hungry and so, so angry._

 

He was shaking her shoulder, carefully. _His hand was wet._

 

“Jaesa? Jaesa, are you okay?” Eyes still closed, _because maybe it wouldn’t see her,_ she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. _Something smeared on her cheek._ _It smelled like rusted metal._

She was shaking. _They both were._

Gentle fingers carded through her hair. _They were leaving it in tangles, all sticky._

Aki should have hugged her back. Why wasn’t he hugging her back? What was that slippery, splintery thing sliding against her arm- Jaesa squeezed him almost violently, huffing for breath, _not opening her mouth no matter what, it was bad enough it was on her face-_

She could feel him swallow. “It’s going to be alright, Jaesa. It will be alright.”

 

_That was a lie._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Almost?) graphic, pretty gruesome description of serious injury. Loss of limb, people.  
> Uhm. The horror of being directly confronted with that from another person. A child person. Disassociation with the thing that is happening?  
> Sorry?  
> (It gets better, I swear, but for now it’s tough.)  
> If you’d rather skip that part, stop reading at ‘You’re Sith. Don’t be a baby about this. She needs you.’ at the latest. I will include a brief summary of plot relevant things in the next chapter’s notes.


	11. What is lost, what is gained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Force provides. It damn well better do so, considering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary of happenings in Chapter 8:  
> Aki lost his right arm above the elbow, through the explosion and subsequent tumble he took. Jaesa had unfortunate front row seats for that. Nobody dealt well with anything. They are both more than a bit traumatized but at least they have each other.

 

 

_Hope is like the sun._

_If you only believe in it when you can see it you'll never make it through the night._

_\-    Alderaanian proverb_

 

 

 

Nobody was going to come find them. Aki knew that. It tasted like truth. Sometimes he really wished the Force could be this certain about things when he _wanted_ it to.

That meant they had to find themselves. If nobody else was there, there was always you. A Sith needed no one to save them. He hadn’t needed anyone to save him when he got lost in the forest on his survival exercise. He had known no one would come. That had been the entire point.

_But it sure would have been nice._

Aki buried the quiet whimper of a thought. That was something a _child_ would think. He was almost an adult.

There had to be a way out of here. The alternative was not worth thinking about. He shoved it away, under all the things that were feeding his rage. Despair could go rot, he didn’t need it.

_Your focus determines your reality._

_We will leave. We will leave and find a way out, starting now._

The Force was quiet but it didn’t _disagree_.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

They weren’t under the house. Once he had convinced Jaesa to let go, so they could tear up the bottom of her dress and bind- fix up his arm, that had become obvious really quick.

They had crashed through the ceiling of some kind of tunnel. Somewhere off to the side there a faint glow. It wasn’t much, just a bit. Enough to follow it if they were careful not to stumble and fall over anything.

Aki wished he could hold Jaesa’s hand _and_ be ready to defend her but- A shivery spark of pain raced through his shoulder. He gritted his teeth.

It was so _annoying_. Yes, that was what it was. An obstacle. He could do obstacles.

His shirt would have to be enough to hold onto because he needed his hand just in case. Jaesa would be fine. They would both be _fine_. He would get her out of here because how dare _anything_ hurt her and it would be. Just. Fine.

Keeping the fire in his chest alive was easier than igniting it but it sure took a lot of careful thinking. It was balancing on a tightrope over an abyss of a lot of _other things_ that he couldn’t afford to look at too closely.

Aki breathed with their steps, let even that fuel his connection to the Dark Side. Fire needed air. He felt as if he was burning from the inside out but that was _good_.

It ate everything. It ate even the pain and he could tell that he was healing, much as he could when- It would have to do. It would be enough.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

When they found the light Jaesa almost wished they hadn’t. It was a weird, green worm hanging from the wall on a stick. It was creepy.

In its glow she could see the tunnel properly for the first time. The walls were rough, with ferns growing out of them. Far ahead, there were blue spots, shining like the worm.

Like Aki’s eyes.

They were glowing, _burning._ He had looked like that ever since he had found her and it was wrong, so very wrong.

_But she knew better didn’t she? There was a monster in the dark. They had found a light but the darkness, the monster had come with them. With her._

Aki wasn’t a monster. He was her friend! He wasn’t- he wasn’t- But-

 

_Aren’t you afraid of it?_

_That’s silly._

 

The disbelief, as if that was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. Even though the nerf was so big, so strong and scary.

 

_Can’t you feel it?_

 

Jaesa let him pull her along, heart in her throat. She could feel _him_.

 

_Fire, licking at her, hungry and terrible and-_

_Curving around her protectively._

 

Something small and scared inside her started to loosen, to reach back. The flames flinched under the touch.

 

_Maybe he was just as scared as she was?_

 

They inched closer. Carefully, he wrapped fire-y strands around her not-quite-fingers. Holding hands, only better.

 

_It won’t hurt you._

 

He wouldn’t. He would never. It was right there, in the hottest parts that she could barely stand to look at.

 

_Never, never, never._

They wandered for hours. For days. It felt like days. Thankfully there was water, dripping from the walls in places and forming puddles on the floor. It wasn’t much but it was something.

The plants were gross. Really, really gross. Aki always tasted them first and she got very good at reading how yucky they were right off his face.

Sometimes they heard creatures with too many legs skittering away, out of sight.

Jaesa held on tight and didn’t let go.

 


	12. What is lost, what is gained II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things get worse before they get better.

 

 

_Darkest is the night before dawn._

_\-    Nomi Sunrider_

 

 

 

The tunnels were a maze. There was nothing to be done but to pick their way by chance and the urging of the Force and hope for the best.

After a while the environment started to change. The walls grew smoother, rounder. The glow worms became rare, as did the ferns. Instead of those they found clusters of purple-ish bulbs, more and more often. They glowed too. To Aki, they felt alive. He didn’t like them.

There was danger here, even if they couldn’t see it.

 _Yet_. Couldn’t see it _yet_.

But this was the right way, so there was no turning back. They’d just have to be careful.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

The purple things were kind of pretty. At least they were before they started finding the bigger ones.

There were _things_ in them. Things with long limbs and a bulbous body with spikes on it. Sometimes they _moved_.

Jaesa was almost sure she knew what they had found. Where they were. That ‘where’ wasn’t very specific or helpful, though.

_A hive. We’re in a hive._

“Aki?”

“Sssh, we need to be quiet.”

Yes, they did. They really, really did. Her mother’s stories about the swarms came back to her, a mix of cautionary tales and rules. Cold sweat prickled on her neck.

 

_Stay inside, Jaesa. Don’t go out._

 

They killed people. They stole them. They _ate_ children. Nobody who went into the hives ever came back.

She swallowed a whimper. Aki wouldn’t know. He wasn’t _from_ here. He _had to know_ , he had to know _now_ , or they were going to be in really big trouble- “Aki, _Aki_ , we’re in a nest. A Killik nest.”

He stopped at her urgent whisper and she could almost hear his answering question. _What the kriff is a Killik?_

Ahead of them the purple glow of the eggs played over a dark carapace.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

It was on them before Aki could even gasp in surprise. Huge, leggy and in his face it seemed to consist of nothing but claws and pinchers. Only his well-honed reflexes saved his life.

He stumbled back, unbalanced by his re-settled center of gravity and- _I can’t jump out of the way it will hit Jaesa-_

The pinchers missed his throat and closed with a harsh click.

_Shit._

He was weak and shaky and his concentration was shot. He didn’t have his blade, he didn’t even have a hunting knife, he had _nothing on him_ \- That wasn’t true.

Still on the retreat, shoving Jaesa along, he fumbled blindly for his pockets. It was still there. By some wonder it had survived everything, even the fall, without so much as a dent.

Aki didn’t waste a second on doubt, he shoved it right in the Killik’s face and and _squeezed_.

The bug reared back, uttering a guttural, many-tonal sound that must have been a scream. It clawed at its own eyes, staggering, falling. After a little while it just twitched.

Aki watched the small movements peter out, his grip on his weapon turning his knuckles white and bloodless.

 _Kriff. That was kriffing close._    

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“Why do you even _have_ insect spray?”

“What? Oh. Just… no reason, really.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Insect spray or no insect spray, there were bound to be too many bugs in this place to take them out with one small container of it. Aki couldn’t even be sure if his luck with the first one had been a fluke. Maybe that one had been allergic or something.

If you could kill these things with insect spray, the Alderaanians would have exterminated them ages ago. Probably. Maybe they had never invented advanced neurotoxins that were good for little more than murdering bugs. Maybe they had some weird, _stupid_ cultural objection to poisoning the kriff out of these things.

Who knew. Who cared! They had to get out of here and fast.

The Force was on their side, right up until it was not.

There were side tunnels, small ones, barely big enough for them to squeeze through. They were a pain to navigate for someone who was down an _arm_ but they managed, and it was incredible how mortal danger could rearrange priorities. Finally his brain had decided he could freak out _later_. His fear fed itself into power almost on its own.

It was just as well. He needed any edge he could get to hide them.

More than one patrol wandered right past the tunnels they were in, groups of insects that had reached sizes a bug should never _have_ and then decided to grow into a nightmare. He was never going to sleep again. Ever.

Aki was taking back everything he had thought about this stupid planet and its stupid indigenous species. The nerfs were cute but that was _it_. He was _never_ coming back here.

If they managed to get out of this in the first place.

In front of them their small hole opened up into a bigger chamber. There were eggs growing out of the walls in large clusters, seen to by Killik workers. Too many of them. There was little hope they'd get through unseen.

And they had to. Aki could almost _feel_ the change in the air. Every now and again he swore there was a breeze.

They were so close.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_Almost._

Even through the blind fear that had her shaking with every breath Jaesa could feel the push of the invisible thing Master Karr had said was the Force.

 _Almost there_.

They were sneaking through the egg chamber, trying to stay behind the bumps rising out of the walls and the eggs. It was the most terrifying thing she had ever done and everything since the bomb had been _horrible_.

_Just a little more._

They were almost _there_ and then they would be safe. There would be _sunshine_. She just had to hold on a little longer.

Leaning against an egg, she tried to gauge the distance to the next, how far away the closest Killik were. It wobbled under her back.

_Gross. So gross._

_Wait, had something just poked her?_

It wasn’t wobbling. It was twitching.

Jaesa took a shaky breath and didn’t scream. Aki glanced back at her and went pale, glowing eyes wide.

Slowly, carefully he reached for her hand. “Jaesa.” They had decided to not risk whispering. To make no sound at all.

Something wet and slimy was dripping onto her shoulder, soaking through her dress.

“ _Run._ ”

The next moments were a jumble of confused images.

Aki pulled her to her feet with so much force her arm hurt. He dragged her along while she tried to get her feet under her.

They dashed for the entrance of the chamber.

She could hear the calls of the Killik, their claws on the stone, and dared just one glance back. If she had had the breath she _would_ have screamed.

Aki’s eyes met hers and he had seen it too. They weren’t quick enough. They wouldn’t- she couldn’t-

For one timeless, heart stopping second Jaesa wondered if she should let go. She was too slow. He would be faster without her. If they got one of them- if they- maybe they would be _busy-_

Aki’s expression went _hard_.

Maybe _he_ would let her go.

She felt like she was falling, everything was happening at once and a part of her was railing against the unfairness of it because he had _promised_ \- his fire had said-

_Never._

Jaesa could taste the word and it burned her tongue. His mouth twisted into a snarl and he pulled her forward. Then she _did_ lose his hand. Had she- Had he-?

She wanted to cry. She-

Yelped as he threw her over his shoulder, digging into her stomach so hard her teeth clacked together. She almost bit her tongue.

“Hold on!”

There was nothing _to_ hold onto-

All of that darkness and burning, all of _Aki_ , was coiling, readying itself to- She grabbed the back of his shirt.

The world became a smear of colors. In one bound they were at the tunnel. The Killik behind them screamed, grabbed for them but he was so _fast_. She was choking on nothing, as if she had stuck her head out of an aircar at full speed-

Tunnel walls flew past them. More Killik, their pinchers snapping angrily. They fell behind as quickly as they appeared.

Underneath it all the thrum of Aki's power, propelling them forward, promising her _Never, never, never._

A strange calm settled over her, let her breathe even as the displaced air howled in her ears. It was getting fresher. Jaesa closed her eyes, letting the soft murmur of word-feeling wash over her, soothing and cool. 

_Almost there. It will be alright._

 

_It hadn’t been a lie, after all._


	13. Calm after the storm I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much ado about not quite nothing.

 

 

_None is so blind as the one who does not wish to see._

_\-    Source unknown_

 

 

 

“My Lord!”

Cytharat was torn from his study of the comings and goings of all beings with access to the estate with a start. No one had been permitted to leave in an attempt to keep the traitor contained but the search had been all but fruitless until now. Hours spent staring at the data and it had left him with nothing to show for it.

_My Master really will kill me if I fail her in this task and she would be right to do so._

If he had been more attentive to the security measures, there would have been no attack in the first place. If-

What-if’s were useless to contemplate. Perhaps he should take this intrusion as a sign to take a much needed break.

“What is it?”

The soldier looked torn between urgency and confusion. “Sir, Aldera Medical called. They say two Sith were delivered into their care not an hour ago.”

 _Sith?_ There were no Sith on this planet, apart from those under this very roof. None that had any business _being_ here. “Have they been identified?”

“Not quite, sir. They, uhm. The representative said they were children.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“- for the last time, no way, no how.”

Satele knew she should intercede. Master Orgus was leaking frustration into the Force like a sieve.

It had been days since the bombing. They had, eventually, caved to the demand of the Sith that the negotiation continue despite the circumstances, if only because the alternative they had been presented with had been a voidance of all agreements previously made. Up to and including the offer of negotiating in the first place.

It seemed they would have their conference and they would have it now _or else_.

The Darksiders were out of patience, out of goodwill and out of tolerance for 'excuses'. Nothing would stop them, not even another attempt on their lives, if Satele gauged Marr's bullheaded obstinacy correctly.

It reminded her entirely too much of the war they were all here to wring at least a truce from.

The Sith did not know how to give up. Their onslaught was relentless until they succeeded or died, even if any sane being would have long chalked the effort up as a loss.

Satele had never considered what the same attitude would look like on closer inspection, when she wasn’t busy pushing back against it to save all she was defending. It was as if that was still what Master Orgus and her were doing. Pushing back, just so they wouldn’t be _overrun_.

_Should a peace conference feel like a battlefield?_

She was about to suggest a break, which would be a fight and a half in itself, when someone knocked politely on the door.

 _Thank the Force_.

Darth Andra’s apprentice entered and exchanged a few quiet words with his Master. Maybe someone had finally found-

The Force exploded into emotion.

It was so sudden and _searing_ that for a second Satele thought they had another murder attempt on their hands.

_No, that’s her. How can anyone carry that inside themselves and still **live**?_

It took her until Andra had reeled her wayward impulses back in, before she recognized the terror that had blasted its way past her shields with all the delicacy of a thermal detonator.

 _Hope,_ fierce as a dying sun.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Vorin was a Jedi. Not a picture perfect one, he didn’t claim that, but he gave it his all, damn it. He had studied hard, become a decent knight and fought for the Order and the Republic when that was called for. He had served in other, no less taxing, ways when that wasn't what was needed. He had thought he knew what willpower looked like.

Standing in the sterile hallway of Aldera Medical he had to admit to himself that he'd have to meditate on that.

_What are Sith even? Do they run on raw quantum fusion and grit?_

He had known they were a nightmare but all those he had ever faced, they had at least been _adults_.

Aki looked tiny, swathed in bandages and swallowed up by the blindingly white hospital sheets. _Tiny_. Smaller, for all of the healing bruises and cuts, the awkward cut-off where his right arm just _ended_.

A patrol had found them, him and Jaesa, on the plains half a klick out from Aldera. Three hours walk from the _killik hive_ he had apparently dragged himself and the girl out of. The hole in the ground _a day’s ride by speeder_ from the estate.

There had been nothing under the house but ruins. They had checked. The scanner had found fuck all. Not a blip. No telling how far they had fallen for that to happen.

_Kriff, kid. You’re something else. Both of you._

Vorin took a deep breath and carefully packed the thought away that _this was what was going to grow into their future enemy. What would he be like in five years?  In ten?_

_He’s a kid._

Aki stirred, blinked its eyes open and the Jedi knight had to swallow at the sight of unfocused, burnished gold.

_Just a kid. You’re not going to be one of those arseholes that loses sight of that. You’re not._

It helped that the first thing the boy looked for was his friend. Tension slid from his narrow shoulders and his face lit in a small smile that Jaesa answered.

Yeah, that did help. “You have them room together? Smart move.”

Doctor Almade pursed her lips. “We didn’t have much of a choice, really.”

 _“_ What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

/But _how_?/ Master Karr looked about a second away from a conniption, even over the wonky holo connection. The unit in the estate hadn’t taken the explosion well and insisted on shorting out at the oddest times. /How can they be _bonded_?/

The footage had been unmistakeable. Every time one of them got worked up they’d enter a negative feedback loop that had consequences from smashed glass to levitating equipment and didn’t end until they could see the other was alright. Aki had reportedly broken someone’s ribs shoving them out of the way with the Force. It was no wonder the hospital had called about the ‘Sith’ they had picked up.

It could have been a case of very upset, Force-sensitive children reacting to the presence of each other.

It wasn’t. A half-blind idiot could see it.

 _Long as they’re not in denial, that is._ Vorin huffed. “How the kriff am I supposed to know? Do I look like a mind-healer?”

The Jedi Master’s face did something complicated and he almost thought he was _finally_ getting through that bastard’s _thick head_ when the man opened his mouth and the situation went from bad to worse. /Very well. It will have to be broken immediately, before it can settle./

_What?_

He wasn’t the only one surprised by that turn of events. Grandmaster Shan’s eyebrows rose and Master Orgus looked like he had bitten into something sour.

Neither said anything. As if that was actually up for debate. Vorin stared at their holograms in complete disbelief. “Are you - You can’t be serious.”

Karr’s eyes were flinty. /Of course I am. We have to save her from his influence while we still can./

Where was he even supposed to start?

“Are you _nuts_?” The guy actually had the gall to look offended. “What the kriff are you _on_!”

Force bonds were serious business. You couldn’t just- You didn’t-

Thankfully for Vorin’s _fucking sanity_ and his steadfast faith in the Jedi Order the Grandmaster finally added her two-creds. /For all of Knight Vorin’s colourful language,/ yeah, kriff that rebuke with a fully-loaded speeder, /he’s not wrong in his hesitation. If this is a Force-blessed bond-/

“What the fuck _else_ is it supposed to be?” _Oh shab_. He had interrupted the _Grandmaster of the Order_. Half a year ago Vorin would have crawled under a meditation pillow and never come back out. Now, with Master Gnost-Dural’s lessons in exactness recently shined by Lachris unrelenting opposition, he couldn’t find it in him to give a single flark past the reflexive dread. If the Grandmaster of the Order was _wrong_ then she should very kriffing well be interrupted. His Master would be proud, at least, if his student lost his head to the Council because he couldn't keep his trap shut in the face of a diminution of facts.

It was telling that no one had an answer to his question, even if Orgus seemed tempted to wash out his mouth with soap.

/It _can’t_ be./ Karr’s voice held a finality that did not leave room for argument. /He’s _Sith_./

“He’s a _kid_!”

/He’s still a Darksider! Whatever perversion of the Force they have concocted to manage this-/

/Master Karr./ Oh kriffing finally. That was Grandmaster Shan’s I-mean-business voice. She took a deep breath and, with the air of someone working through something highly complex, continued, /In none of our records, to my knowledge, do we have _evidence_ that a Darksider cannot be part of a Force-blessed pairing. We do, however, have evidence they can be redeemed. We know those who went astray did not lose their bonds in the Fall unless they willfully broke them. If we extrapolate from that, it might be possible./ _Even for a Sith_ , swung under the sentence, unspoken but heard.

Dead. Silence.

Yeah, that was pretty brain-breaking. It was certainly _implied_ that Sith didn’t- that they were never-

Force-blessed bonds were _sacred_. The Sith were corruption made manifest.

For all that Vorin had championed the idea _first_ he hadn’t really considered what it _meant_.

_Kerum would hit me over the head right now._

He had about a second to let that sink in before the line exploded into as much of a shouting match as a three-way between Jedi Masters could become.

 


	14. Calm after the storm II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rat sneaks about, the Jedi quarrel and the Sith plot.

 

 

_All is not as it seems. Truth has many facets._

_\-    Ralla’Na al Thum_

 

 

 

The traitor had covered their tracks well. There was nothing to be found. Cytharat was running out of time and he knew it.

Already the containment had started to leak.

Knight Vorin had left not an hour ago to see to the wellbeing of the recovered children.

_And if that isn’t more than reason enough to bring this hunt to a close I don’t know what would be._

A _Jedi_ , ‘watching’ over his Master’s grandchild. The child he had _failed_. The boy that had almost died saving the people he had been supposed to pave the way for. It did not bear thinking about.

He had to catch the culprit before they slipped through his fingers. If he was blessed with Force-given luck his Master might see fit to allow him to make amends for his many mistakes.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“Grandmaster Shan, you cannot be serious!” Karr was gesturing wildly. “The very thought is sacrilege. As if anyone could be _meant_ to be bound to such depravity!”

On her other side, Master Orgus mouth was pressed into a thin line. “You have to admit it’s a bit much.”

“I’m not saying I think this is the way it is supposed to be, exactly.” Satele gauged the possibilities. There weren’t that many. “What if he is meant to be a Jedi?” The boy had saved both her and Master Orgus life and preserved their chance at peace with the Empire in the process. Reportedly, after the fall, he had protected the girl from grave danger despite his own injury. Nothing had forced him to do so. It was an act worthy of any Jedi. “If the Force is convinced he should be of the Light…”

No one was ever wholly lost. Even the Sith most mired in darkness might see the error of their ways. It had happened before.

There was more hope for a child than for most. But…

/Andra will never let us have him./ Knight Vorin’s words were entirely flat. /Even if she weren't a bloody Sith, you saw her, after he went missing. She'll kill us all if you even suggest that./

He was, unfortunately, correct. Satele’s heart grew heavy with the certainty of it. Whatever else Darth Andra might be, her grief for that child had been real. Her attachment was immense.

_And if he disappears now, when she knows he is alive, she will tear this planet apart searching for him._

_Oh, Force. We don’t have a choice, do we?_

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“This is a matter for the Council to debate. Take Jaesa to Coruscant. Whatever else is decided, she will need to learn advanced shielding techniques as quickly as possible.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_Finally._

It was the perfect moment. The Jedi were all aflutter about something. Only the Zabrak wasn’t in on it and he had gone to bed. Even the bastard of a Sith that had almost run them ragged these last few days, just to stay a step ahead, had finally collapsed right there in the security center.

 _With a bit of help._ _Hah. Looks like even they have their limits._

Nothing lethal, nothing that could be traced. With any luck he'd think he had nodded off.

The security records had been sliced weeks ago. No one would find anything there. Even if they could detect the tampering the real data was long gone, overwritten by the system itself that was convinced the records were flagged as temporary storage only.

They had made very sure none of the incriminating materials could be traced back to their own hands. Or rather, just enough of it so that they looked as suspicious as everyone else.

_There's only one thing left._

The backup detonator. They had to get rid of it. It was the only chinch in an otherwise fool-proof plan. Taking on Force users was always tricky but with a bit of subterfuge all things were possible. If the the bomb was found it would have given the attacker the opening they needed.

That hadn’t been necessary.

_I still failed._

They had and they didn’t look forward to their punishment. Maybe a long vacation was in order, after they were done here.

At the edge of the estate they pressed close to the wall and felt for the loose stone.

The small device they uncovered was a work of art. As it was entirely without power until activated, few scanners would detect it. Few was not none, however, and they _were_ up against Force users.

_Well then. Let’s break this up, throw it down the well and I’ll go scot-free -_

Before they could make good on their plan their airways closed. They struggled against the invisible grip, the detonator falling from their nerveless fingers.

The light laugh of a woman cut through the quiet of the night. “Now, now, what have we here?”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“You went above and beyond. Well done, apprentice.”

Not words Cytharat had expected to ever hear again from his Master. The headache he was nursing, even with the Force burning through the drugs in his system, had been well worth it.

He dipped into a shallow bow. “I did my duty, nothing more.” With a short glance at the other councilor in attendance he added, “Lord Lachris was of great help in the venture.” She had more than enjoyed the opportunity to make the assassin suffer. He could relate.

Already their burgeoning alliance bore fruit. A most satisfying outcome.

Darth Marr gave no indication whether he found the involvement and success of his own apprentice pleasing. "Ours or theirs?”

“Theirs, my Lord.”

“An unfortunate complication.”

True. They could not be seen to detain a Republican officer, whether he was a traitorous rat or not. There would be questions. Unfortunate questions that might lead to great embarrassment.

If they let the Jedi have him they would never see him again. Worse, if his Master was right in her suspicions… This attack could not be pinned on the Empire. Not _now_ , where every ounce of power was a stepping stone in the negotiations that would define the future of their citizens for years to come.

“Maybe not. Why don’t we make our disadvantage our trump card?” His Master twirled the pad containing the information he had compiled on agent Dellocon thoughtfully. “How good is his cover?”

Cytharat frowned in thought. “If it is indeed one, it is good. I could find no inconsistencies. For all intents and purposes he is an agent of the Republic.”

“Very well. Say, Lord Marr, how would you feel about graciously allowing the Jedi their desire to see infringement upon the treaty prosecuted by the ‘injured party’?”

After a moment’s pause Marr said, slowly, “I would wonder what we could squeeze from them for such generosity.”

The smile on his Master’s face was all teeth. “So would I.”

"Hm. It's quite the risk to take for one spy." They could not very well allow their traitors to be dealt with by the Republic, if there was any chance to prevent it.

Darth Andra scoffed. "Please. We will never win on that front. Best to cut our losses while there is something to be gained from it."

 

\----------------------------------------

 

“Doctor the logs. Sadly, the traitor slipped your net. After the treaty is signed we will discover his bolt hole in a suitably neutral location. Nar Shaddaa should do.”

 


	15. Epilogue: Aftermath

 

 

_The search for wisdom is never finished. Blessed are those who think to begin._

_\-    Master Odan-Urr_

 

 

 

Aki stared at the ceiling, bored out of his mind. That had been the way of things, since the worst of it was over.

Coming to the hospital had been a chaotic mix of things happening incredibly fast and long stretches of endless waiting. Now there was nothing but waiting left and the only thing he was waiting _for_ was to finally be allowed _out of here_.

The kolto had done its work ages ago. He wasn’t even sore anymore.

He glanced at the bandaged stump. There was _that_ but no amount of kolto or Force healing would fix it _._ He’d- He’d get used to it.

It wasn’t so bad anymore. The nightmares were worse. Maybe that had something to do with how it was healed up and smooth, not that the nurses and med droids would let him poke at it.

He was, shamefully, cowardly, glad he hadn’t seen what it had looked like _before_. The way it had felt, in the dark, when he had- It was enough to last him a lifetime. He didn’t need to see it too.

_You’re a warrior in training. Don’t be such a wimp._

Aki took a deep breath and held it, the way he had been taught. He _was_ a warrior. But he didn’t need to figure all of it out on his own yet. His trials were still a ways off. He could talk it out with Aunt Leli, she’d help him meditate on it.

_I can’t wait to get home._

Especially now that the other bed was empty again. That Jedi, Vorin, had come sometime yesterday and taken Jaesa with him.

Which was fine. It was. She had a lot to learn before she was a Jedi herself. Next time a Killik tried to eat her she would be prepared. That was _good_. Even if-

 

_Jedi were the enemy. But it was right for her to be one. He could tell. He was trying not to think too much about what that might mean._

It did leave Aki on his lonesome in a hospital bed on a planet that wasn’t his own, though, doing breathing exercises because he was _too old to cry over something so stupid,_ damn it _._ Jasper would have laughed at him.

 _No, he wouldn’t._ Jasper was going to have a _fit_ when he got home…

He must have nodded off because the next time he opened his eyes Cytharat was there, standing beside the bed like a creepy statue. Aki almost punched him in the face with the Force.

The pureblood flinched. _Yeah, he probably felt that. Oops._

Talk about an awkward staredown.

He hadn’t been looking forward to this. He _had_ ran out on the guy, after all. After Grandmother had told him to look after him. Cytharat would have been held responsible for anything that happened to him even if it wasn’t his fault.

_Don’t be a coward. Own up to your debts._

Easier thought than done.

A few endless minutes ticked by before Aki managed to steel himself. “I’m not sorry.” It was a mumble more than anything but it would have to do. “And I’d do it again.”

He would. It had been terrible, it had been fear and blood and pain, but he had saved Grandmother. The Jedi had said they had saved _everyone_. No one had even gotten badly hurt.

Surprise flashed across Cytharat’s face.

Aki refused to fidget. He had done what he had to do. He wouldn’t apologize but he could acknowledge that he wasn’t the only one who had paid the price for that.

After a long moment the man seemed to get it. Slowly, his presence started to unknot, like a weight lifting away. “Very well.”

Were they alright? Aki didn’t quite breathe a sigh of relief. He kind of liked him, stuffiness and all. Speaking of…

The pureblood looked terrible. Sure, his posture was stick-straight but Aki got the impression that was more so he wouldn’t slump than anything else. There were bags under his eyes and his face was grey-ish. Like he hadn’t slept in days.

Eyeing the stubborn set of his watcher’s shoulders he decided the least he could do was do the guy a favour.

Now, to bait the trap. “Can’t you sit down? You’re pretty tall, you know. You’re making my neck hurt.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

 _What a shit show._ Vorin punched in the last of the navigational commands. They were almost ready to make the jump.

In the back Kerum was still trying to cheer up their miserable passenger. No luck, so far.

The girl had been glued to the view screen closest to the cargo bay ever since they had taken off. Alderaan was getting smaller and smaller as they picked up speed.

_I hope we’re doing the right thing._

 

\----------------------------------------

 

The sight that greeted Andra when she finally managed to get away from her duties long enough to make the trip to Aldera had her torn between amusement and the impulse to grind her teeth until they cracked.

_I see my apprentice is as vigilant as ever._

No, that wasn’t fair. Cytharat had gone to great lengths to catch the one immediately responsible for her grandson’s injury. He deserved a break.

That didn’t change he was _supposed to be on watch._ A duty he had _volunteered_ for.

Apparently, he shouldn’t have. His exhaustion had caught up with him and seen him fast asleep, propped up on the edge of Aki’s hospital bed.

_Exhaustion and an imp’s mischief._

Concentration lined her little rascal’s face as he commanded a pillow to inch between the pureblood’s folded arms and his head, with all the focus worthy of a Force-trial. His fine control was truly astounding when he wanted it to be.

_Now where is this focus during training, hm?_

The edge of Andra’s annoyance softened. It burned, to see him so maimed but… The pillow slid further, held in perfect balance.

 _He’s using both hands._ Did he even realize it?

_Probably not. Our minds are most flexible when we don’t overthink things._

Already Aki was adapting. He would overcome this. A mechanical limb was hardly the end of the galaxy and the loss would teach him things nothing else ever could. 

_And while he learns I will teach someone else what it means to fail to kill me._

Dellocon would talk and once he did? Barras would rue the day he had begun his miserable existence.

She would have her revenge.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_Two weeks later_

It was done. Satele could scarcely believe it. All that was left was to turn over the document to the senate to be signed.

_Peace._

Maybe not forever but it was certainly a place to start. There would be those that were less than happy with the outcome, the treaty wasn’t a victory in the strictest sense. It was well balanced but that would make its completion smart all the more for those who wished to continue the conflict to the bitter end.

_Let the Senate deal with that. You have done what you could._

For now, their work was finished. She had to admit, it did ease her mind. The catastrophe she had dreaded hadn’t come to pass.

 _It almost did._ If it hadn’t been for the bravery of two children, all might have been lost.

Two children whose situation was a headache and a half in itself. Satele didn’t doubt she would be up to her eyebrows in debates about Jaesa Wilsaam’s future as soon as she set foot on Coruscant.

Which was what had brought her out here today.

She had all the time in the world to try and do right by the girl. Not so for the other half of the pairing.

The Imperial shuttle’s blocky form sat awkwardly in the wide meadow. The ramp was down and at the very edge of it sat the boy that was the source of so much good fortune and contention both. Somehow he had managed to attract a nerf. The animal was nuzzling his palm affectionately.

Satele’s own words haunted her. _What if he is meant to be a Jedi?_

So young and already so marked by the path life had set him on. The path of a Sith.

And yet. She could see it, the potential. The gentleness he treated the animal with, the delight when it was returned, freely, because he offered and didn’t demand anything.

What would become of that potential? Would it survive?

Impossible to say. In her experience gentleness didn’t last long in the hands of Sith.

_He has made it this far. There is always hope._

“Hello there. Aren’t you supposed to be on that ship?” It was a guess but an informed one. By the way the child winced and became the picture of injured innocence Satele had hit the nail right on the head.

Unsurprising. After his recovery Darth Andra hadn’t allowed her grandchild out of her sight if she could help it at all. He had been stuck in more meetings than a boy his age could be expected to endure.

At least that allowed her to say goodbye without raising too much suspicion.

“I _am_ on the ship.”

“You’re on the ramp.”

“The ramp’s _part_ of the ship.”

Despite her inner turmoil Satele could feel her lips quirk into a smile. “Somehow I don’t think your grandmother would see that the same way. You’ll get in trouble.”

“Eh. Only if she catches me.” His unconcern for Andra’s menace was impressive, really. “I wish I could keep it. It’s so _sweet_ , don’t you think?”

She eyed the bovine. It was roughly the size of the entire cargo hold with horns to match. “It’s… certainly an impressive animal.”

“They’re the only thing this planet has going for it, I swear.”

 _Ah, the conviction of youth._ “Really? The only thing?”

Sadness stole over Aki’s face, shaded his presence. “… now, anyway.”

She shouldn’t push. It was cruel. She had made the decision and it couldn’t be changed. _He must go with them. There is nothing to be done._

Wasn’t there? Wasn’t that the excuse people told themselves was true because they didn’t dare act? Sometimes it was hard to tell where consideration for the greater good ended and indifference began.

“You miss your friend, don’t you?”

His aura darkened further, self-recrimination and loss welling up from depths a surface touch couldn’t chart. “She needs to focus on her training, just like me.” 

It rang true in the Force, tinged with the pain of the separation. Satele swallowed a wash of grief and released it. It sat so ill with her, to leave him in the dark without even a single light to guide him. Could they really expect a child to find his way on his own?

_But what is the alternative?_

To allow this was to court attachment in an Initiate and to someone groomed for the Dark Side.

 _Yet their connection cannot be denied._ They would have to watch Jaesa very carefully, to make sure it did not influence her unduly. Steps would have to be taken, to prevent the effects of his learnings from spilling over onto her.

_A worry for another day._

For now, all she could do was keep him company until the time came for the both of them to leave. She could give him that much.

Silence fell between them, both lost to their own musings.

After a little while Aki muttered, thoughtfully. “Do you think we will?”

“That you will what? Focus on your training?” How odd.

“Understand.”

The word caught Satele like a bucket full of iced water. It rang through her, rife with power.

For a moment everything seemed to fall away, but for the boy in front of her. They were drifting, around them a swirl of ripples. Where they broke on each other they echoed in a hundred voices.

She blinked and it was gone.

She was on Alderaan, on a field in the sun, with a grazing nerf and a child that mustered her curiously.

 

“It’s really loud about that, isn’t it?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the end of the first part. I swear, I didn’t plan for this to explode into a story that needs different parts, but here we are.  
> Thank you for your kudos, messages and for sticking around so far! I hope you liked it. I have an idea of what will happen next but university and work have been kicking my ass.  
> I’ll have to see about writing it out. Until then!
> 
> Love,  
> Shade


End file.
